The day I arrived, I dove into the sea

After a chaotic morning and early afternoon chiefly characterized by everything taking about three times as long as it should have, I had an excellent afternoon and evening chiefly characterized by rushthatspeaks. For purposes of not transmitting him my viral crud, we were doing most of our socializing open-air and thus made first for Castle Island, where the sun was thinking about setting in the time it took us to walk around the causeway in the late winter mix of cloud-blues. A red-and-black container ship was lying off Deer Island. The weird ducks dotting the water were mostly black and white. Sullivan's hadn't opened for the season after all—their grille was still rattled down—so we not actually settled for deli sandwiches from Mamaleh's, eaten at the park on Rogers Street under the wires that always look to me like a trellis in progress. We did not get T-boned by the driver who decided to blare through my attempted left onto Hampshire Street. We did lie around afterward next to the air cleaner talking about mostly twentieth-century fantasy literature. I brought knishes home for spatch. I remain desperately underslept and count this a really nice day.