Oh, What A Year

It'd be equally as foolish as it would be insensitive to say death’s reality is a given in the human experience.

Especially on an internet page. But if you're traveling on anything remotely similar to my emotional path, I can assume you're eager for this hellish year to conclude.

Wipe your hands on the dish towel and be done with all of its misfortune.

Misfortune is a lazy adjective.

My mind tends to framework itself around endings.

This serves as a problem when the God I serve is more or less a master of new beginnings.

Clean slates.

I wrestle with this a lot.

When the pumpkin pulls up in the drive, the lights switch on and Closing Time concludes over the speakers, I've noticed no credits begin to roll. No optimism-filled chapter heading appears on the next page. Cinderella doesn't leave with or without the Prince. With or without the shoe.

She leaves with her dignity instead.