A Timely Fight

 

Once again, I’m faced with a crisis.

Time.

He’s  bothering me with his usual tease and I’m just not feelin’ him right now. I’m stable, but he’s trying to change that. I’m chillaxin’ and he’s just standing there watching me with his googly eyes. I’m figuring out the next level with clean and accurate precision, but he’s just reminding me of what I missed at the last level with clean and accurate precision. He ‘s there, and seemingly not too aware that I’m just not feelin’ him.

At least not right now.

I just need a few more moments of alone time, but he’s just that much taller in the sky to where I can’t help but see him.

Glaring

Peering into the close of the day as if he’s able to change the rhythm and pace of things.

So, I fight.

I fight him to the death and if he think he’s able to take me down with the ‘ol one-two-punch, then he’s in for a rude awakening. I know counter-moves, a with a slight change of hands, I can master the art of every sucker punch he throws. I get to call the shots with this one. I get to yell out ‘last call’ since I own this damn bar; and yes, the door is that-a-way with the exit sign now kicking a full blown kiss on your neck as you, in fact, exit.

So, time, let’s play another game. A game where you just stand there waiting to be told the next step of your day.

I’m just making a small claim here.

M.C. Davis

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