pleurotus

~Excerpt from a play in the works~ about an angel with this round face and short hair that doesn’t move, even when it leans over, like a statue, you know? And it’s floating above me. I’m in my bed, except it’s not my bed, it’s white painted metal, like a child’s bed, but it’s huge,

I make two cups of coffee stirring cream and sugar into mine and nothing into yours and I imagine this could be the first of many you taste like wine...