Saturday, April 18, 2015

historical fiction

She is five years old and chronic. Well groomed and fed when she comes to school at 10am every morning. Late nights because Mom has a third shift personality without a third shift job. Or maybe she has one. I don't know. I didn't get that far into the story.

And I wonder about that Mom.
Does she have some really great and loving person to keep that baby at night while she takes on a job she could love? Is there a pharmacy assistant, nursing, gas station attendant, shelf stocker, floor mopper,   food fryer, what else is there position which will help her put groceries on the table and get her child to school

on time?

And there's none of your business.
And your business.
And keeping your thoughts and opinions to yourself is what people learn as they mature.

I don't know.

Remember 99.9%.

I sometimes linger here for fear I will have to take on what I see. Get busy. You know.

Today I am grateful for a place to linger and the realization of that's what I do.
(definitely a form of lazy)

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