I knew Shawna in college. We would cuddle, talking till dawn. When she moved to Logan Square I agreed to help her carry some heavier things. She also needed my advice on furniture placement and a few paintings.
When we got tired of unpacking we cuddled on the mattress in the center of the room. It was the final hour of night.
“Where are you, Bailey?” Shawna asked. “You seem far away.”
“I need to get going,” I said.
“Take me to dinner tomorrow night. Show me sweet home Chicago.”
“I don’t eat out anymore.”
After sundown, what is there left to do. I wanted to head home and make offerings to Homie. Homie speaks to me concerning the levels of proprioception radiating from my unique frequency.