Broken letterboxes mended by the light of a pale moon
Nicholas Antoniak

“Your sister tried to call today. Twice. You didn’t notice, you were like that. Distracted. Your mind always wandering, refusing to come to rest, instead glossing over everything as a whole, equating commitment with missing out. A wine glass gripped in your right hand, fists clenched in the left, you stared out onto the street …”