Tonight the moon came up late. It was 10 o'clock and the glowing exposed innards of a giant blood orange hung low in the sky. I think about the things people get pissy over and it blows my mind. In a singular moment of clarity, I see the teensie tinies.
They are so overstuffed, like a cool old chair at the curb. It looks like a great find and you sweat getting it into your car. Maybe the windows are wide open and you don't realize how hideously wretched it is until you get it home and put it in the living room. A strange bug you've never seen before flies out of the cushion as you carelessly invite infestation. It stinks, too.
You haul it back out to your own curb now. But the bugs are still there flailing, like the moments that haunt your mind.