April

So her name is April, after all.

I don't get it.
I see her where I get my clothes drycleaned. She works there. It's part of a program - a state prison-run program.
The past two times I've seen her, she's been so cheery! and lively. She just makes my day. And she's in a prison.

And here we are. Roaming around the world freely. Going where we wanna go. Doing what we wanna do.
And yet, no huge smiles on our faces. No up-and-skippity personalities resonating from us. No cheery liveliness to brighten my day.



Wanna know where you can
get an inexpensive
and tasty martini?