Coffee cooling on my desk, spreadsheets to fill and above all look important, more important than the one in the next room. But my window reveals another existence, not for me but for someone else and so tantalizing, why wasn’t it me? The one that got away. I used to have dreams, but they were just clouds in my coffee. Now my coffee is black. Stripped of the creaminess that could bring such luxurious joy. Effective. Should have a spread sheet over that. As my darkness fades to increasingly watered-down grey, my sense of accomplishment fills with regret. .
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October 2015
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