Looking at a wikipedia article to the sound of gathering tears 9:37PM. another day almost lost I’m gathering the scraps of hours and leftover minutes stuffing them into a too-full tupperware. Squeezing like an orange-looking lemon, brain juices. The moon is full tonight, and my stomach complains. Harmonious coupling of optimism too big for reality. S says she has depression. I google a wikipedia article, think about the slow slide to rotisserie chickens and frozen peas from burnt basque cheesecakes and flaky cheddar-scallion scones. I read 10 tips on how to help someone with depression. Big words like disorder, worthless. The very official-looking article says it’s common among American adults. I protest S is not common. If common is the grass in lush pastures, S is the tuft poking out an abandoned building. If common is overcast storms, S is the shower, hail, and sleet pouring out of the sky as the sun dazzles. If common is saying thank you after getting your coffee, S is bumping into the love of your life at the register and proposing on the spot. If common is hanging onto life, shiny bestseller books, dry scrambled eggs, S is the moistest, fluffiest eggs you’ve ever had, the worn used book, crinkling at the edges in a secret smile, the stardust that keeps the clock of life turning round and round at the top whooping as it goes for another, again, again, again.