Anna Nicole Smith mug. Green tea. Peeling stickers. Episodes. Fiber arts. Boots. Bike. Soup. Joshua.

In response to addiction in the family  my cousin claims, “I just don’t understand, I’ve never known anyone- no one close to me has ever–”

It is her default to the platitudes against answering. She’ll plead ignorance rather than engage in a potentially embarrassing conversation in which she might be forced to learn something.

My guts are falling out. Not right now or today. I ate for a whole week! Normal eating with normal swallowing and a respectable dearth of panic and gut-wrenching.

Before me a beautiful host of stories unfolded. I heard AK’s scope in and out in some time of miraculous fiction craft.

In order to make space for a bunny I cleaned out my closet. I got rid of all the residual over-sized tee-shirts of NC and exes past. I should have given them to her when she was here picking up her things last spring but instead just acquired more. I’ve tucked away the summer clothes that I denied owning in big flat boxes under my bed.

Last night Lcooper used my apartment to write and now I can feel her everywhere in notes and bars. It’s warm here now- especially in my fever and I’m going to bed.

It’s the middle of the day. Isn’t it always.

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