The sound of the cars can be reassuring.

The light of the moon can be all there is.

My mind makes promises too fragile to keep.

I don’t know why I write and to whom I should address the words.

I’m worried about tomorrow.

There’s a man who takes his dog for a walk every morning and the routine comforts me.

I watch him.  He walks funny.  His dog does too now, it’s old.

I close my eyes.

I listen to the cars.

I wonder how many more times I’ll see the man walk the dog.

I go to sleep.




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