one day sitting in my grandfather chair,
and lay scattered about my feet.
looking out the window into the window looking into my window.
and their curtains did not hide them.
my phone ring ringing, i now knowing it is several strangers under one contact’s name.
and i recognised their voices.
my ear hearing knocks vibrating through my front door.
my door had not been locked for decades.
my lips tasting bad luck and betrayal in my brown tea.
and the tea lifted my head off my shoulders.
my little dog tip-tapping into my field of vision and jumping on my lap.
the furry logic of a fuzzy animal.