The Anchor’s Weight

Counterbalance, here.

You know, the nondescript weight that balances the more important weight as it swings magnificently up in the air?


The name is Chloe.

Went to dinner last night with the family.

Everybody shone and sparkled, high up in the air of life, love and fun… while I held down the earth in nervous, weighty glum.

Looking for an ugly, old anchor, whose butt’s always smushed in the dirt? The contrast that makes beauty pop?


Chloe, here.

Where do you need me to sit?

Until tomorrow…


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