Sunday Morning

Sunday morning is best near a sunny south-facing window. The drink, something cheery with a cherry, olive, or twist, cools the throat as the sun warms the eyelids. The room is white even with eyes closed. The day is full of promise and there's no fear at all.

If you think you look ugly in the direct sunlight, I've seen you there and you're beautiful. It brings out your flaws, your innocence, and I melt. In that light to touch you seems a sin.

(I'll remember you said that when I need to be happy.)

Problem Solution Com-plication

Problem: The Sun is disappearing again.

Solution: Consult the Farmer's Almanac.

Complication: Monsanto and Cargill have burned all of them.

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