this day is bright, the last day of the holidays.
it is a quiet morning, an early morning.
the son is sleeping in his bed
get up, select clothing from the heap, find clean underwear in the suitcase.
A case for suits, holding socks now.
And a large plastic bag of dirty clothes
Toothbrush.
Read the news, a French policeman killed, maybe more.
One dead madman, murderer, misguided, dead too
Watch the contrails of the distant aircraft passing,
leaving a white line over the brown hills lit by the low sun.
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