Just After 2AM

I stood on the porch, frantically smoking, mumbling to myself the whole time.

“I have no home… I’m alone in the world… I have no home…” I kept repeating to myself, sucking so hard on the cigarette that the cherry rapidly became a glowing orange cone.

Then it came to me. I have a home.

I DO have a home.

We meet there once a year and we are home together for one short week.

The rest of the year, we’re on our own, just as it has to be for any of us to thrive.

Maintain orphan status— maintain anonymity— for the other 358.

And I felt more calm immediately. I laughed to myself, as I stubbed the butt out and headed back inside to finish some cheesy Diane Lane movie.

At least I had the house to myself that night. Yeah.

Back inside to my freshly cleaned glass bowl.

)'(