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May 24, 2017

Internal tea luggage

I have a huge internal energy cache and the need to share words with a friend. Long past dusk, but the path still visible, a thermos my only luggage.

Across the stream a bridge was built. Rocks thereunder suffice as chair. The trees are green, my shoes are red, shrouded in darkness all around me these colors live their nightly life.

I brought no companion, only this hot beverage and my thoughts.

Minutes turn into an hour. A mug a mug a mug. Earl's reserves are low.

They'll never catch the wacko sitting by the stream alone at night drinking tea pondering life.