scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


Not bloody likely, clear. The snow is blowing sideways, blowing my eyes shut and watery, unwrapping scarves, borrowing hats if you're not careful, and the cold is never so bad but the wind, the wind. The wind! How anyone could forge a city in this blasted place, and i think, i know, i say this about everywhere i've ever lived, and sure, they might have been coming from somewhere unimaginable, but the wind.

It's lovely in summer.

It ain't summer.

The airplanes are always cold, i don't know yet what it will be, in america. It will be very, very far.

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crummy coffee but i am still warmed to my toes. i leave my phone number at the international church, that i have a spare Gitterbett, maybe someone can use it, someone like me with no family in Vienna, maybe they will know someone who would need it, that i live here, nearby, and i feel oddly Christian, in the season, in this season, like that i've inadvertently eaten a fish on a Friday and only realized afterwards.

On Monday the sky will fall, yellow and green. If it is clear i will watch.

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moving only the tip, like a subtle, patient, hunting cat, but not like at all. I am hungry and not hungry, weighing myself against myself, frantic and not frantic. i did not see this coming. how could i have seen this coming? everyone said, when everyone always said. seconds become minutes, minutes become hours, i can only imagine what it would be. i do not think i ought to be surprised, but here i am. i am exhausted and can't sleep. please god let it be soon.

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a lazy Sunday and i only leave the house to walk the dog: it counts as getting dressed, as going outside, as a technicality. I pull on my hat and gloves at least. Outside is minus eight degrees, snow and ice and wind, and inside i have hot coffee, hot bath, the easyconstant invitation of a flannel duvet. I brought home a new blanket from the Swedish furniture place again, a pillow for the munchkin, crafting supplies as well, and a tablett for the sofa, one of those dark blue with the white leafy pattern, and look! there's the very bear i've always wanted. Today, i am content. I nestle in the warm and think of a catnap and you know what? You're right, it is like syrup. I like it this way.

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