November 8th, 2008

Upon waking at noon next to a body I know far too well I declare that this week has not met my expectations. Once our morning silence has been broken I stare at her naked back as I wait for her condolences. I admire the shape of it, how it slims at the stomach only to widen again at the waist.

Slowly she turns her torso towards me and whispers, "Get over it. Not every week is supposed to be good."

Another lesson learned far too late for it to be of any value.