Sundays are crazy like you just spend a few hours once a week feeling like a grapefruit spoon scooped you out to the pith walking around in silence watching the sun thru the leaves and absentmindedly thumbing over the contours of your heart until it all comes crashing down on you that’s there’s too much time and also none and at all and no one to fill it with exactly the way you always wanted to. And then you go to the store buy bread and cheese for the week and it’s all normal you’ll do it again in seven days
ALT
