edit sober. Well I'm not quite sober, so I'm about to write. Today was an odd day, good things happened, some expectations were met, others were lost. There is a man we called the Captain, his skin had wrinkled and his eyes expressed loss. There was another we called the Yooper, his confidence high and his mouth wide. There was another we called the King, her face met the light in a way unfamiliar, a forward gaze that I could not recognize. Still another, the manager, and another, the law, but one stood out above the all. I've seen her before, but I'm not sure if I'll see her again. We vote some out, and we vote others in. Looking left at a mirror to an object focused right, to the conversations of the morning, to the loss of the night. There was intimacy, there was indifference, there were complaints from us all. Some conclude through spring, others through fall.
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