I sit atop the Forum of Raleigh and there's a wind and a moon in the sky, hidden behind bright gray clouds like lingerie draped before candlelight.
Boulevard of Broken Dreams is playing on the radio.
The chronal membrane is so thin, I can touch the future and I can hear the past. When I speak, my voice echoes but what echoes back isn't what I've said but what I've said a month ago, a year ago, a decade ago. Before the Conversations with Princesses, I'm hearing myself then speak to me now.
Melancholy is such a beautiful thing, especially when you're just visiting and not living there anymore. I'm reminded of why I'm a writer. And I'm reminded of just how beautiful things can be. The future is going to be alright indeed.
And now, totally unrelated, here's an exercise-themed 12 Days of Christmas I wrote because why not?
Twelve
swings a-swinging
Eleven
snatches snatching
Ten lifts a week
Nine reps total
Eight different
'bell sizes
Seven different programs
Six chiseled abs
FIVE
BENT-PRESSES DONE WRONG!
Four heavy
get-upsThree one-arm pull-ups
Two
prison push-upsAnd a Nautilus machine collecting dust!