I walk up the sidewalk through softly rolling green hills, sun filtered through yellow and orange and feel here. Not elsewhere, not anyone else.
Lately I'm not really saying anything. But nothing's raced me to do so. No kicks, no slaps. Just murmurs. She asks how I am and I say solid and I realize that is the word. Four jobs make strange harmonious sense. I love teaching. Kaylee, Hannah, and Leah now have the potential to kick ass on bars. "I saw you jogging the other day," he says. Back to the highway, indeed.
But I wonder sometimes which of these things is fleeting.
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