moment of unspeakable beauty today when one of my coworkers called another coworker “judas” for not splitting a can of white monster with her, and i got to watch the guy who sits next to me open a new google tab, type in “jeudis,” and say quietly to himself “french thursday…?”
“came back wrong” what about Came Back Afraid. You used to be brave. Too brave maybe, defying the odds at every turn, a fighter, cocky, playing with fire, first to throw yourself at the enemy. Until one day it all caught up to you. You came back, somehow, but now you know all too intimately how it feels to lose, to die, to be destroyed. Now you flinch and freeze and cower at the slightest provocation. Who even are you now if you can’t be brave? The grave may have let you go, but the mortal fear still grips you tighter than ever.
