i will attempt to inflate the air mattress without reading the directions while you sweep away the mice droppings and we pray that there are no snakes coming through the hole in the wall below the window. we will talk to the neighbor about a hurricane and a red river cresting a week before. i will open the blinds and squeal at the sight of a large spider, that you will take care of while i sweep away the overgrowth on the stairs leading down to the porch. we will leave the dog, eat mexican food and loiter in a bookstore, showing each other things that we think are interesting while we brush up against each other and giggle. we will go to the market for ice, beer, and canned dog food. you will drive and i will be free to feel like everything is, at last, perfect. we will use lanterns and flashlights and sit on chairs and drink and smoke and play games about movies. we will invent a proper way to eat a new brand of oreo and we will watch the ponzi mice run along the baseboard and keep our shoes off of the floor. we will be.

madly in love.

we will be.


if just for one night.


how does one express their condolences via social networks?

seems shallow.
seems easy.

i'm starting to hate everything.

even mountain dew before bed.