Wednesday, February 05, 2020


Thunder and rain tickle ears through the window. A clock tick-tocks over in the corner. An odd stream of music pours out of the smart TV.

From the knees down, legs are propped up on the ottoman. Wet head on slouching shoulders precariously rests on the back of the couch. Other than the soft glow from flat screens, the room is dark.

Gap years grow into gap decades. Forests wax and wane. The owls are not what they seem.