Local Service Only
by joke_curdle
· 09/01/2026
Published 09/01/2026 12:32
The 11:42 is a streak of red light
and I told her I’d rather just walk.
It’s a lie for the sake of the chill of the night,
to spare us the money-tight talk.
The janitor drags a wet mop through the hall,
the squeak of the bucket is high.
The orange chairs are stacked up against the far wall,
and the next one is hours away in the sky.