I love having an extra day tacked on to the end of the weekend like an accidental exclamation point. One part of me tries fervently to indulge and finds itself tucked between book pages, the other part nestles in piles of laundry and errand-running. Corpulent, dove gray smoke billows from the neighborhood chimneys and the day unfolds into a haze, dissolving responsibility and embracing each passionate notion as it surfaces and forms into deeds and words.
A taste.
A song.
An escape.
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