you're making rain and you're just in reach

anna glides around the kitchen in her monkey pants, moving like a ballerina. her glasses are precariously perched on her nose. ashley holds a cup and drifts from the couch to the sink, forgetting her purpose. her hand drifts across her face in a sign of confusion. she frowns at her cup, places it on the counter, picks it back up and returns to the couch, laughing at herself. caitlin is in her room, tense yet still, typing madly. and me, i'm on the floor, chewing my already decimated plastic pencil, attempting to keep all tenses in my essay active and to make certain words agree with other words.

this reminds me of home. everyone is in their own world, but we're all a part of this little unit in four fifteen. it's calm. it's serene. it's a bit messy and it's entirely comfortable.

however, this serenity all goes down the pan when i have an exorcist moment and start voicing profanities about mothers in hell.

someday this constant disruption of peace will come back to haunt me. i know it.