Thursday, April 05, 2007

It is that time of the year again. Very soon, somebody will sit by my side at the edge of my bed and tell me how small my wrist is. And I will look uncomprehending and wonder at indeed, how small it is. Through mist and fog, my brains will clear. And I will look straight and walk. Into mindless work and endless stupor. And cry when I take a break. I see it coming.

No comments: