magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Something about yesterday's travels made them feel more like travails. It already being dark by the time I got back to the city; the ghosts with whom I shared the train ride; crossing the final milestone before the full weight of semester's end stress.

The feeling has spilled over into today. Or maybe it's just a touch of the flu. Chills, slight nausea, muscle aches. Add a highly suggestible imagination. Stir and serve.

A few minutes on the phone. A second draft of a newish poem.