Sea Monster


Dear Eugene,

The fall is here and the morning stays darker longer, every bit of light feels brighter.

There is this little window in my downstairs washroom with a glass pattern to defeat transparency and by 7 o'clock this time of year light would come through in a however distorted way and land on the linoleum floor to create a little oasis surrounded by darkness, a sight never failed to provoke fear in me even if it's been years since water last escaped to the floor and by now I've gathered enough resources emotional and otherwise to deal with a sight as such.

In my weaker moments I would allow my toe to touch the little patch of fear no less artificial than linoleum to force a final word on the matter.  My pettiness is justified I suppose by the instant gratification of swift justice, casting out of demon on demand.

And it was only 7 o'clock.

Yours, Alex

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