On Leaves and Concrete

Posted: March 18, 2015 in Uncategorized

I’m sitting here, listening to the rain outside. It’s nice. It makes me want to sleep. It also makes me want to not sleep. Because then I can listen to the rain. These are hard decisions to make. Every decision is hard. One door closes. Another door closes. A third door is slightly ajar and seems to lead to some kind of hotel hallway, with the faint smell of chlorine, a tacky brown and blue mat carpeting, and lots of bulky metal doors with card readers and thick handles lining either side. Someone walked by in a white tank top and holding an orange towel, and the thought crosses your mind, who buys an orange towel? When was the last time you saw a towel that was orange? What colors do your bathroom need to be decorated in to make an orange towel an acceptable addition? The hits keep on coming, but then the pneumatic pump on the door hisses it closed with a ka-thunk, and now all the doors are closed. But it sounds like rain outside.

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