Planes, Boardgames, Shiney Sky Things.

A plane swooshes over my head as I lounge in front of my un-lit fireplace. Lucy sits on a window perch and listens to the low rumble of cars at the West Center intersection. There aren't many stars, the ones that I see may be planets or satellites. I travel to my job in the mornings and back home, south and north, always against the rush hour traffic, like a salmon. Walmart's most expensive wine sits in a bottle next to my dishwasher which I have never used. My extensive two walk in closet spaces are filled up with bikes and boardgames. The Omaha World Herald is delivered daily. Its always bad news. A little less talk and a whole lot more action. I sound like a country song. I am completely alone in a million person city. At least I am home.