The second weekend of February. Clothed in red and white, it is a pretender. It claims to be the herald of romance, but it is not. It is, instead, the harbinger of emotional torture.
Unexploded ordinance [Le Sueur]
An unpleasant day in the office. I know I am just a meat sack, but today I really felt it.
Slow burn [Le Sueur]
An adventure into a world on the edge of society, to a place where the usual rules don’t apply. A place of free conversation, where people can be true to themselves.
Shut down [Le Sueur]
Sheltering at home from the storm, I think back to the night before.
Gag reflex [Le Sueur]
The weekend begins with an unpleasant task, an overdue part of the regular chores.
Just a normal day [Le Sueur]
Not a lot happened, today. But I’m going to tell you all about it, all the same.
Sober 183 [Le Sueur]
On reaching a milestone, today, I share the briefest of notes. How I got here, and what it means. Half a year of sobriety.
What a difference a day makes [Le Sueur]
Contrasts, observed in comparison, between now and then. A month has passed, and I have an opportunity to view the same place in a different light. Quite literally; thinking about it.
Just a day [Le Sueur]
Starting the weekend with a little upkeep, then a trip into town. Not a lot going on, and now I need to decide what to do with my night.
Much-needed mirth [Le Sueur]
In a small room, above a bar, a man tells his story. The audience, as he wishes, laughs.
