meandering

dusty sneakers in a sunny corner of the room. basket of crumpled tissues, several on the floor, from an early victim of fall. a few shots left on that roll. clean laundery, still unfolded, recently strewn on the bedspread.

still, filled with suspense, waiting for at least a new paragraph, i read on. three stories, intersecting only in my mind. focus.

at least it's sunny in that corner.