Altered by 5 Minutes...

I paused and stepped backwards, double-taking an initial glace through the doorway off the hallway. It was empty. The bed was made; a teacup was untouched; and, apart from for a small, metal electric fan on a table in the corner, all was quiet. Motionless and in its saddle in a glass ashtray sat a dark red lipstick-laced cigarette butt, its tobacco smoldered and trailed toward the vacuum of an adjacent window propped open. A torn section of notebook paper, pinned to the curtain, danced in the slanted yellowness of the afternoon light. I walked towards it and pulled the long hatpin to release it...

Puisse le destin chercher gracieusement sur nous et de
se tailler un chemin vers oneanother une fois de plus.