Wednesday sits naked
         and ordinary
             waiting

between the bookends of restive Sunday
and social Saturday. The day is
       little more

than a cluster of hours or a stop on the
 treadmill. Indecisive and
     lonely

nobody chooses a Wednesday. Nothing
happens
           on a Wednesday

and it’s the same each week.

© j.g. lewis

Sept 11/01, a Tuesday. London Subway bombings: July 7/05, a Tuesday, also July 21/05,
and also a Tuesday. Assassinations: John Lennon on a Monday, Martin Luther King Jr. a 
Thursday, and John F. Kennedy a Friday. Kurt Cobain’s body was discovered on a
Wednesday, but he chose his way out three days earlier. Nothing happens on a 
Wednesday.

There are fewer concerts mid-week, and opening night is never a Wednesday. They 
never open the Olympics on a Wednesday. Nobody gets married on a Wednesday.

Yet, each week, I choose Wednesday.

When I launched Mythos & Marginalia.com more than seven years ago, Wednesdays were all I planned.I had other thoughts, daily, but Wednesday was the day. I made that commitment.

I wrote every damn day, so I began filling up more than Wednesdays. Mondays became young Fridays, and there was a lot more going on than I originally thought, so here we are.

This is Wednesday and there is a new design to the page; it’s another challenge I will slowly figure out, yet that’s the same for any other day. But today is Wednesday and there is more to read and more to see.

And I’m sure there will be something more tomorrow.

-j-