Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Six
The fog is too thick for me to seen the moon setting.
Hip clicking.
Five cups of decaf.
I see the email and realize it’s going to be another fire-drill-Friday.
He talks about how much food his three-year-old ate the other day, and I think to myself, just wait. Just wait.
Count your gratitudes.
She stops by to grab his jersey for the game. So very high school.
I had forgotten how hot the sun feels when you’re in the visitor stands. No shade in sight. Just melting. Melting.
Friday night lights.
He says that he hates this school, but we agree that the field had a really beautiful backdrop, especially as the sun sets.
I think this time the numbers match up. I hope. I just want some sleep.
