Late morning, I’ve overslept, the river is beginning to empty of it’s ambitious early runners. A few familiar faces remain as I wear down my usual path, comforted by the predictability. At the edge of what remains, they are cutting down more trees, it aches in you. So many things ache in you. In my dream, we spoke of summer, we spoke of maybe come here to relax first, like we had suddenly solved a crux decades in the making.
I woke up late, yes, but with new answers on my lips.
Each day now is lighter than the one before. Start here.
Don’t stop until you find yourself alive again.
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