Write a four line poem about: the coup.
So Max seems to be on the road to recovery, just as Miles hops on board the bus to Sickville. And, somehow, I'm still basically healthy. Quite sleep deprived, but not coughing or sniffling.
I feel like I should stick 'yet' at the end of that last sentence.
Oh, an update from Vancouver as well: my former coworker is out of ICU, his breathing is no longer labored, and the clot buster seems to have done its job. He's on blood thinners now and will hopefully be heading home soon.
I think there was something else I wanted to mention but I'm going to sleep now so never mind.
They said Enough is enough
At long last,
So they struck violently and
They struck fast