1:47 A.M. at the Kitchen Table
It’s 1:47 a.m. The house is quiet in that way that only happens when the world has gone to bed without you. My sinus infection won’t let me sleep, so I’m sitting at the kitchen table eating cold Mexican food straight from the container. No plate. No ceremony. Just something to do with my hands while my thoughts refuse to slow down. This is not how I imagined my life would look. Lately, life feels…













