Lundi

The recesses of my head are encased in molten lead, and I'm stumbling through showers of granite bricks falling, tumbling, crashing with frenzied pandemonium. Scribbles of cement, scattering of pebbles and smattering of stones and its all just very prickly, very static, very crackly. Vexatious, vexing, vexed. I catch the time and shift into a deeper state of heaviness. Oh hello, Monday.

Better yet, hello, October.