Feeling the Pinch

Reentry is hard. Hard. Hard. And to top it off, I am now bruising from the pinch of the Harsh Epiphany that Suckerpinched me the other day.

The light at the end of the tunnel is the impulse ranunculus I bought the other day at dusk. Her name is Marilyn and she sports the most redalicious red in the world. I wish the room had nothing in it but a dark mahogany table and Marilyn. That would be enough and it has to be.

Going running.