A Lovely Afternoon Spoiled

I put down my notebook, satisfied with my work on this poem today. It takes a second, looking out from the shade where I’m sitting on the grass, for my eyes to adjust to the late afternoon sunshine filling the rest of the park: lawns sloshing with gold, people playing ball like they’re swimming in luminous air.

And for some reason I pick up my phone. “I wonder if that idiot responded to my scathing comment on his post,” I think, swiping my Lock Screen to wake the beast.