Limbo Time

Limbo
I am standing nowhere. It is supposed to be called something, but I have no idea what that name could be. Limbo would be a good word. Limbo sounds unsteady and uncertain. My life. That is my life. If I had to describe it, I think I’d call it not a good thing. It is an existence. I still breathe and move about, but at a great emotional cost.
I want to feel rich. I want to think there are no money or housing problems. This afternoon I’ll go buy 8 ounces of sour cream—thick and rich sour cream. It’s a fantasy for about $1.50.

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