hide in wine
I retreat from the world on evenings and weekends. The sun looks pretty, dipped in red wine. I let all the dark, red light in through the shutters and watch it stain the carpet. I want to talk with R., but it's so hard to press her numbers. These days. She is a busy woman. I hate to disturb her, if she's in the middle of something. So, I don't try. I probably won't talk with anyone until I go back to work Monday morning. I still think about moving. I got some leads on apartments in the East Bay. Maybe I'll go scout out the neighborhoods in the morning.