POKING AN I OUT

Departing for home from one's lot at work for parking.  Dark clouds with gaps for light reflect off dividing lane lines.  After the next turn buffeted by crosswinds between blurred shapes of 3 now only 2 dimensional landscapes.  One last gust caresses startlingly the face that now stares into the closet.  The hanger that would take daddy's coat is hidden between the children's smaller jackets.

Daughter shows off the bloody hole where her tooth once protruded.  Her smile is passed by her older brother running through the hallway and falls to the floor.  A question posed to him reveals his activity is pursued to experience his hat leaving his head.

Turning around to hear the youngest of all calling for "daddy" who follows this with words spoken in a louder fashion, "I wasn't talking to you, Daddy!"  Never mind.

The drink is laid on the mother's computer desk as she notices the object and mumbles, "That's not mine."

Belonging continues to elude the vehicle that sets out again for home.  Storm clouds are darker and consist of less gaps in their thickening blanket. Betraying more featureless contours withdrawing from the car's windows excluded from escaping.

- Max Stoltenberg