Hey, Jupiter.

I sit. As always, glass of wine in my hand. Deep red. Dark. Silence surrounds the room and swallows me. Not to much to talk about.

I stare straight ahead. As if transfixed. I stare at the wall. At the Seurat painting we bought together. I'm heading down. I know. He knows.



So I'm just sitting.
Waiting.
In the silence.