Check-in.

Busy day as usual. It's one of those times when I get told at work: "do you mind staying till 21:00?"

A rethorical question, of course. I'll stay till 9.

It's tomorrow that I wait for you without expecting. Every Saturday.

Or will it be another week of wait? Only one way to find out.

It's called: "finding out".

I won't adscribe anything to you... yet.

Did you think I didn't take a good look at your demons? I'll take them on, with your smiles and good graces. In any which way.

Neither you nor I needed rescuing, ever. You'd know after a double-take. Maybe that's what you fear. To see me stand.

Meanwhile, the altar boys will be busy, polishing the chalices, awaiting for the priest's prick. They don't know they got too old and stringy for kiddies' games. It's not for me to teach anyone their table manners.

I've got work to do. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.