Madness Above
I can't stay mad at myself. While brushing my teeth, I'll see myself in the mirror, toothpaste foaming at the mouth, and think, "You hideous monster, I can't stay mad at you." I'm just too much.
The battle for the yard has been fought and won. For now. Except that part under standing water. And the part I let grow up in trees.
Grass is cut, anyway.
Thunder growls from some distance. While paying the Domino's delivery driver, lightning pulls my eyes skyward and runs pinkish tendrils across the sky. Rain isn't forecast. The sky's just mad or something.
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