My Yellow Walkie-Talkie

It was quite cool out this morning, to the point that the sweat on my forehead got icy cold on the ride in to work. I scooted in a bit late, but nobody seemed to notice I was there at all. It was a quiet day, and I just did my thing and stuck to myself. I made it to Oakland three times in total to finish up various things. I never took a lunch and just ate a handful of peanuts instead.

When I made it home for the day, I tried to keep busy. It’s been hard finding any accomplishment around here for a while, and it takes no time at all for anything I do to be undone. When I finally settled in for the night, I was spooked by something that sounded like just a second of radio chatter or something. I legitimately thought my old clock radio had gone off somehow, but I couldn’t imagine how or why.

Must be that ghost season is nearly upon us.

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