xxi. just the beginning of the storm

    the day they packed their things,
                the receptionist wished them a pleasant journey
             as the bus rolled to a stop outside, but –
      was she having a pleasant journey?

                  her mind rolled this over like a polished marble
           pondering the meaning of it like an art gallery
                   and by the time they boarded their plane
           she was tired
             of wondering if she was happy

          home beckoned them as twilight drew its arms around the sky
                 and she only remembered her raven
           changing her into pajamas before becoming one
                   with her thought made lucid

             there would be time tomorrow to understand
                   how they were going to make this work

Prompt: Drain

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