Out comes the dusk
Out comes the dusk, and it gets me every time. Pink tonight after a day under the dull grey ceiling. The lamenting baby across the street. What’s bothering her on this calm evening?
I’m compulsively reading the news. I don’t want to miss anything. One serious announcement after another until it finally goes quiet, and there’s no need to comment further.
Reading the comment section. I’m told I can “earn $965 daily… earn from $18,7370 a month or even more… It’s easy, just follow instructions on this page…” The promise of ease when everything, even getting up and making toast, is an ordeal. You can almost hear the commands to every muscle.
Is there a certain point when you need to stop being patient? And how do you know when you’ve reached it?