Mason Jar

I called you, my smart phone no longer receives calls. It’s taken me hours but the rust is gone, my coffee cup is empty and I’ve moved on to emptying my whiskey bottle. Strained eyes and no eye-drops, sore throat but at least I have lozenges.
I empty out my mason jar, it used to be full of money. I saved up so we could go to dinner, the dozen strangers on the internet pay me to write. It pays the bills as well as procrastination but I can take you out at least. My laptop turns on, we talk on skype, you offer to pay so we’ll have Thai instead of take-out.


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