On Scales

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scalesIt seemed like there was always too many things to buy and too little money to buy them. It was like a giant scale, take off the magazines and put on a pair of gloves, one looseleaf equals a jar of pickles, the taxi instead of the bus means no paper plates. Take something off, put something on, careful careful.

You’d think you would get used to it, that constant counting, but you never do and the piles all jumble and all you want to do is sleep.

It was cold that inky night, that bitter cold that cracks your words, but the walls were closing in so out we had to go.