Blue Monday

Imagine if death was something people looked forward to and tried to sneak off to achieve, and birth was mourned.

I was in the cellar hanging laundry just now. I heard a squeak squeak sound not a mouse but something. When I came up I heard a HUGE crash. It was a chunk of ceiling in the office bathroom crashing down breaking the black glass shelf and the tile post holding it. The squeaking may have been the ceiling weight shifting.

When 'receive mode' knocks at the door I hide under the couch. He keeps knocking on all of the windows and doors. He's a very persistent octopus. Finally I open the window a crack and he grabs me by the wrist, always the wrist. He tugs me out to the ocean where I live for a while under the waves cooking him dinners and washing his clothes.