she's been self indulgent, like a piano making melodrama, she's been over sensitive, over whelming others and herself, like the black keys pounding louder than they need to. Isn't it allowed some times, isn't it her prerogative, to be difficult if that's what she's wrestling with. Last night she was crying into his listening, tonight she's looking out of the window orange/red dots reflected into the raindrops dripping down the picture window, dropping as fast as her self indulgent tears from last night. Only tonight there are no tears, only detached views under the rims of her glasses. She told him right from the beginning the truth, she couldn't give herself.

She didn't want to go there, but then she wanted to change how she is, to give more than she can. Why not, some people say she's too giving but he won't agree. He'll say she's too selfish. Maybe she is, or maybe she finally wants what she wants without fear. Without fear is what lets her talk to anyone, anywhere. It's why he wants her, she's without fear...most of the time ...it's what let her rub her hand over Helen's back tonight, to say "I'm sorry" with no words.

Blue where are you when she needs you? And they don't call her, the men. Are they afraid of her what? Her what? What are they afraid of? The lioness, the hare.

Back to Blue, tell me about my prodigy, what do you see? Is there something I can do? Is there something I can relay that will stop the events from happening before they do? What if I don't think, what if I trust. Yes, I didn't make the bus, not today, and I can't plan for tomorrow. I can't plan for anything. It's out of my control, even though I want to convince myself and all of them that it's up to me. Indulgence, I'm indulging myself. It's where I started. At 23 wpm. Looking up and out one last time, there's a funny man, he's waving under the umbrella dripping no tears, only raindrops, and smiling.

Tomorrow's Saturday, chick day, chick calls, free minutes, maybe less rain.