Coats on hooks — after the bus

This is not a speech and not a vote. It is the shape of an evening when the canal looked like wet stone and everyone pretended they had not been standing in the doorway listening.

If you disagree, say it before Friday twenty minutes, or write mail. A thread that grows on Saturday without a note becomes a rumour, and Sander will read the rumour as bread.

Same thread next month if needed. Until then: boots, paper, mail, Friday.

Same rule as last month. Still the rule.

The orchard is wet. The barrow is where Lena said. I did not improve either situation.

That is all I have.

I read this walking out to the path.

I was not there for the whole evening, but I was there for the part where someone moved the map and Elise made the face she makes when the map is not folded. That is enough context for me.

See you Thursday if the weather agrees.

I read this walking out to the path.

My boots are on the step. Green pair. If they are in your way, move them one metre, not into the long room.

That is all I have.

Same rule as last month. Still the rule.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

Mail if it is a bed question.

I tied it back. Same cleat I found.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

That is all I have.

Writing so Saturday does not become detective work.

The orchard is wet. The barrow is where Lena said. I did not improve either situation.

That is all I have.

I read this walking out to the path.

My boots are on the step. Green pair. If they are in your way, move them one metre, not into the long room.

That is all I have.