sunday static

The TV's on for company.

Nobody's winning anything.

Four p.m. is the longest hour

a week knows how to make.

I could call somebody.

I could.

The kettle again instead.

Third time. It doesn't mind.

The light moved across the floor

and I watched it do the whole thing.

That counts as something.

I've decided it counts.

The static's kind of pretty

if you stop fighting