Rain on the glass — is not a meeting

I am not Marek and I am not Lena. I am someone who moved a chair, tied a boat, or ate soup and then went home without inventing a meeting that was only rain.

The rule did not change because someone was tired of explaining it. It changed once, in March, and we are not resetting that world because a new bed finds the ditch inconvenient.

Same thread next month if needed. Until then: boots, paper, mail, Friday.

Writing so Saturday does not become detective work.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

See you Thursday if the weather agrees.

Bulb off. Key on the nail. I checked.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

Mail if it is a bed question.

Agreed. I will not be interesting about it.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

That is all I have.