My cup. It runneth over.

I don’t know when that steady, casual, purposeful gallop turned into this manic dash to the finish line.

I didn’t realise when the happiness that came in small, but frequent, well-timed echoes morphed into a this mad cacophony of delirious laugher.

I honestly don’t know when the tide turned and when fervently sending work out, brought it all back, multifold. And then some.

I haven’t quite noticed the exact point at which the trickle of satisfaction that crept in from time to time, like an obedient cur responding when called grew into this uncontrollable stream of joy that will just not be tamed.

I feel like my heart might explode.

And yet,




5 Replies to “My cup. It runneth over.”

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