Usually I’m calm Merced Cristiano Almanza Usually I’m calm, but this morning, the fog conspires against me, a blanket of uncertainty pressing its questions into my skin. Am I the architect, or merely the tenant of this solitude, an uninvited guest, the aftertaste of a bitter cup reminding me life can be fleeting at times. I cradle the coffee, the warmth comforting but transient, Camus drifts through my thoughts, absurdity rising like steam, and I find myself wondering (1/2) poetrythreads