drip, drip drip

I was still standing in the middle the kitchen. Helpless. Crying when Muse came in the back door. Unannounced. I never thought…he surprises me……..

He can see my confusion, my anguish, my helplessness. He can see the drops of my heart and soul dripping. Drip, drip, drip on the floor, mixing with the salt water tears..

Terry, You old fucking coot. Why the hell did ya have to go and die like that today for? We were always supposed to have one more beer and one more smoke on the porch. And laugh…..like we used to….

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5 Responses to drip, drip drip

  1. Rosa says:

    oh dear. No. Oh g-d no. A longtime buddy.
    (I amended for clarity).

    No. Not really ok. But I have to be. I have no other option….

    Like

  2. oh dear..
    I am just as confused…
    but more over.. are you okay?

    Like

  3. Greenwoman says:

    Muse died…? *blinks…*

    Is that a figure of speech or an event?

    Like

speak!

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