Who Are You Talking To Right Now?

I wanted clunkless transition. But reminders, like the mug with your workplace name, your date-setting, another place-setter, like I don’t make decisions anymore, clear.

Except every decision’s been you. I’ve been Monopoly banker to syphon secret fifties, five hundreds, so your sheet thread count’s double and our kids can make college mistakes.

But perimeter setter, wife of last year. You pen me like a store bought pet, who’s only ever known glass or wire or a hole-cut cardboard box as home since eye opening.

Who are you talking to? Right now. It’s like you’re script written, checking the boxes on Facebook for notifications you’d like to receive, and News Feed events you can do without.


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