Breaking from Metaphysics midterm into something semi-creative/fun.

In Morton, Illinois this morning I ate my bread with strawberry freezer-jam. I climbed the ladder in the barn. I watched her drive away. I hugged an old friend. I thought of things I said not to. I peeled the cucumbers.

I learned freezer-jam is self-explanatory. That straw and hay are not the same. That she came back for her luggage. That he loves electric sheep. That things really are getting better. That these aren’t enough olives for a really good Albanian salad.

But the jam can’t be left out at room temperature. And the straw on the second floor gets slick. She said she needs to think for a while. His hair got so long. It’s foolish to infer. The cherry tomatoes are pre-washed.

So I store it in a Mason jar. I slid and fell into the bale of straw. They drove away together and missed dinner. He almost bought an organ. Think of the likelihood. The ratio of lemon juice to olive oil is 2:7.

This cold slush reminds me of summer smoothies. This straw smells heavenly. They’ll come back laughing, later. He's wearing a new sweater. Keep it out of sight. It's too cold to conclude; I'm missing the feta. ALSO, I LOVE DAN.