It was like a wisp and a morning and a glass of wine. As if there could have been. More than. Over this. See. The linoleum isn't yellow and I can tell. Other people have lived here. But the lamp gives a yellow glow and we need the lamp more than we need the dust bunnies or the neighbors. Though we don't live in this kitchen anymore. It was the blender that got in the way. And the toaster oven wasn't nearly the efficient heater they said it would be. And either way, it's imaginary and my bed is floating and the lake and I'm still cold.
* copied from our submission from Viola Lee