I turn around and I am drowning in noise. The chatter of the world made paper. Little fluttering bits of plastic.
This is the thawing pain, when all that was numb and solid blossoms into moaning.
It's been one of those days the light lays flat across, unchanging, so that it all feels suspended. Flat light. No agenda. Except to unravel. This is the day I've been swimming towards for weeks. My first day off since, I don't know, October? Day of nothing. Unwinding.