Today is sometimes.

Today my thoughts don't seem like my thoughts, but the thoughts of dirty floors and bills and dinner plans, the recycling bin, scissors blading through my hair.

Today I am one stepping, full footed on fir floors, with a tack in my toe.

Today I am relatively certain of nothing at all other than the prickly sensations inside my skin.

Today sloughed off the skin of yesterday's sometimes.

Hairpiece cut from a young woman named Emma when she entered the Carmelite order. (Circa 1900) André Malraux bought the object at a Paris flea market and gave it to a friend for his twentieth birthday. Credit: Collection Jean-Jacques Lebel.