I ticked the debates after watching a few innings of the Yankees game. Baseball is a game of patience and patience is what is needed so I decided to make a habit of it. I told myself I wouldn’t get into stats and names but I’m developing favorites. I watch now as love in me is passing where from I make it out and watch the world from my new perspective. Now and again I’ll talk to a girl or deliver a drink and now and again the night pops alive and the heaven’s open and we are off. This night was warm and decent and uneventful. I felt pride to watch a black man and a woman debate for the most powerful position in the world even if the world wasn’t ready. I thought of holding a gun against an invading army and thought of the lack of love and the clouds that encase it.
The girl called for a cool minute and handed me some coal. I burned the coal into soot and searched for canvas but it just didn’t come together this night. It’s a hard night when it doesn’t come together. I told the girl as much but she was already asleep or ignoring my contacts. So I told myself as much and laid to rest, awaiting the next inning.
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