DAYS OFF IN A BEAUTIFUL HELL (HOME)

The Autumn brush is painting the edges of everything green a rusty brown. The big spiders are getting slow. The freckled orange jewelweed is still flowering but some of its stalks are withering. Fall is not subtle here. I’m home for a two day “break” and I feel like an intruder in my own house. The fresh marks of my violently broken heart from a week ago are glaring at me. Coffee on the wall and the tile. A hole in the drywall where I chucked my phone in a rage.