Long day at the orchard.
Didn't get in til late. Nights like these are always hard. Once I get home, there isn't time for anything but sleep.
On my walk home I passed a dark and desolate street where I was mugged - my happiness stolen by an unseen hand. Happiness though, is always like a friend just visiting; its residence only temporary.
This led to thoughts of loss, which inevitably led me to thoughts of those that leave our lives - of the ones we wish were nearer, the gone or forgotten. Then I realized that no one ever leaves, really. They stay with us, wine colored and wistful, frozen in the smiles of stained-glass teeth.
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