Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Two
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Loud frogs.
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Still quiet. Soft light. Enough time for me to curl up in the leather chair and write.
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But really, I could listen to Elaine and Julia talk all day.
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Mind is blown over this conversation about grapeseed oil.
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Focus changes everything.
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I clean the kitchen because I know I will be too tired to do it when we get back from the game. I should have gone for a walk instead.
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We watch the map turn red, and the minutes creep up. We’re going to miss the start of the game. I lean back in my seat and thank God that I don’t have to do this every day. How do people do this every day? I’ll stick to my tiny town and 25 miles per hour, thank you very much.
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“It looks like the desert,” she says—all brown except for those small patches of green. The small patches of green are small vineyard blocks and oak trees.
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I don’t have a good feeling about this.
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The drive home is faster and more beautiful due to the golden light from the setting sun. But so much quieter. No one likes to lose.
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“Doc Rivers said it last night: ‘The pain of losing can motivate you to win. But the will to win has to be stronger than the pain of losing.’”