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Michael Joel Hall

Heavy.

It gets darker in Colonial Beach than it does in Washington. I get taken aback by its quiet intrusion on my car. My dashboard panel is brighter, the potential deer not clearly illuminated by a lamp post every 30 feet. Its easier to feel alone in the dark. Its easier to be afraid to cry out someone's name, because you know they can't hear you.

Maybe that makes it harder.

I wish Emily weren't dead.


(and I still have like 20 pounds to lose... why do I want such a small body?)
Tuesday, May 11, 2004 · 8:20 am
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