Monday
Renew, restart, retry, remove. There is always more time, until there isn’t, but never a retread of the day, the week, the month. Tomorrow will always come; today will be yesterday soon enough.
Wednesday?
I swallowed Tuesday whole. We will not speak of it. I do not want to discuss it.
Wednesday and also Thursday
It is Wednesday night and Thursday morning and without sleep in between it feels like both, like it’s both two on Wednesday night and two on Thursday morning and the day has ended but not yet begun. (Wednesday will swallow Thursday. Sometimes days do that.)
Friday
I extract the week from my chest and lay it out on the table. Tuesday remains absent. Thursday and Wednesday have fused together, like two pieces of plastic that sat on the concrete too long during a heat wave. Misshapen, deformed, unusable and unrecognisable.
I set it aside. Interesting to look at is better than the absent Tuesday, the shiny, optimistic Monday.
Weekend (amorphous)
Company (affectionate, also derogatory, also affectionate). Skirt around plans, sit inside plans, avoid plans, consider plans.
Cancel plans. Nap instead. (Also consider: TV, book, go for walk, do anything, do nothing, so long as it can be done in solitude.)
Monday
Renew, restart, retry, remove. Begin again.
Clare Bardsley is a writer from Melbourne. She has one dog and both too many and too few books. Clare has been telling stories since she first started talking and loves history and reading and writing in varied genres.