My end of year review said I lack realistic foresight. I almost went to Albany on purpose. Imagined how you would look all freckles and dry leaves. Your smile, folded down the middle. September is not crisp but brittle, now on the verge of shatter. Planning ahead doesn’t give me satisfaction, just airline credit I’ll never use. She has the beauty mark but I am more Marilyn Monroe and twice as self-conscious. When I say I don’t want to know, I already do.