wednesday

But we’re all friends here, I thought. Are we not all friends here?

There is timelessness in our capacity as human beings to give love but there is also timelessness in our capacity as human beings to inflict hurt. 

It’s Wednesday and the rust inside the left corner of the white sink won’t come out but I’m scrubbing the orange brown stubbornness because that’s all that’s left and the dog is crying, it’s too hot in here, I’m tired and my eyes are thinking and my body is small.

I thought we were all friends here.

If only I had known we’d go on to ravage one another in the savage, unpredictable way that only human beings can.

It won’t go away; I keep scrubbing.

But we’re all friends here, I thought.

Are we not all

friends

here?