I spent a week drinking the sunlight of Winnetka, California. Where they understand the weight of human hearts. You see sorrow gets too heavy and joy it tends to hold you.
Every new day is a gift, it's a song of redemption. Any expression of love is the way to return. To that place that I think of so often, but now never mention.
My brother finds comfort in calculators. He assigns every number a name. He believes that they add up to certainty. And he's upset with the fractions that remain.