Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty
Tom the turkey is back.
I hear the screechy sounds of the trash truck in the distance. Do I run outside in my pajamas again to make sure he took the cans out? No. Not today.
A much slower walk. Watching the sky slowly burn itself awake. “Death by Meeting” in the ears.
I promised myself no more coffee, but here I am, back at the pot again.
Looking forward to an evening with nothing extra.
Compressed melon with Thai basil, jamón, and olive oil.
Sitting in silence. Who is
“Are you glad you came?”
A bottle of Fleurie as the day turns to night. Tea light candles and a breeze.
But it’s only Wednesday.
