The fresh wind strokes my face.
I stand in the doorway,
It is time to go.
Comfort comes as I sink into the car seat.
The world before me is behind a screen.
When I am home,
I will sit behind a screen
And watch actors drown in money
By pretending to be the everyman.
At my labors,
I face the computer screen.
It has become my God.
When I can no longer stand it,
I close my eyes and let sleep come.
The night returns to me my strength.
Next up: Home, warrior, sandwich
They don't need to be in order, folks.