It's gray. Your windows face north and the sunlight doesn't reach your skin like you need it to. The computer stares at you with its demands and you're slowly realizing that maybe this little box is at the root of your weariness. Perhaps you were not made to while your life away in front of this little square with its incessant buzzing. It's a thought that bears mulling over.
You think again about fire lookout season.
They say the cloud cover will pass mid-day. You're not sure how long you can wait. One day you moved across the ocean and it taught you a life can take place in a million different ways. You've never been the same since.
Maybe that's just what it is to live a life.
You're never the same
once you've done it.
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