Keep Up

Though I know I don’t have to explain myself, I realize that I’ve been absent from the Archives these past few days (and this morning you get the triple-post-catch-up).

Dedicated to posting daily, where on earth have I been?

Well, I’ve been laughing at my continually strange fortunes. The Yogi tea bag holding a quote for me: “Keep up”.

How come when we drink tea together the Bohemian always gets some better saying in his mug? The enlightened messages. Ones like “You are the light of love” or some other divine pronouncement.

He laughs at my ‘keep up’ message and asks, “Didn’t you get that one last time?”

Pfft.

If keeping up is noticing, then I am following my tea bag orders.

He may think I didn’t see, but I was aware when he slipped downstairs to quietly water my withering houseplant.

Long after he’d gone home, I noticed the blankets on my couch and chair were folded in new ways.

The broom, it was leaning against a wall in a fresh corner.

I found some pots put away in different drawers.

His trace remains. Small things get rearranged.

Keeping up, I don’t want to change them back.

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