Scarry Night

It was a wet day in February, when I was delivering the weekly paper to my neighborhood. I trudged up to my fourth house of the day, already wiped out. The mailbox read, "6 Whipperling".

People make mistakes.

Sometimes it's hard to forgive them.

Sometimes, you just want to build a barrier between you and them and ignore their words for the rest of your life,

but what if that's not right?

Hi!

Nice to see you!

This is my world.

This is where I live.

My world is bright,

my world is kind,

my world is forgiving,

my world is beautiful.

When you enter my world,

"I'll go do it," they say,

"You stay here," they say,

"I'm fine. I can do it by myself," they say.

Well, sometimes, that just doesn't work.

Sometimes, I can see that someone is in need.

I just met the universe.

You may think, "What?"

But indeed I did.

I just met the universe.

Sometimes, I like to think that you can't possibly be lonely,

unless you haven't met the universe.

Drip,

drop.

Tiny little bubbles,

they fall all over,

filling the world with Mother Nature's tears.

Why would she be sad?

Why would she be distressed when the world is so beautiful?

So breathtaking?