A million ways to end us

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a cluttered shoebox carrying everything and anything

Sits on the edge of a faulty stool that sways with each addition to the box. 

A strong wind blows but doesn’t quite tip it over, it only pushes it toward the edge of the stool. Perhaps the next wind will.

A balloon, not quite as large as a thumb, being filled with water, on the verge of bursting, the water stops pouring in. The balloon, carrying an impending catastrophe, awaits a sharp agitator.

A clean, white canvas next to cans vibrant red and blue hues. A sleepy toddler waddles next to the canvas, almost knocking the can over the spotless canvas. Maybe his next steps will. 

A never ending suspense where anything can end us is petrifying and too urgent for me.

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