Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty-Seven
Turkey.
I stand in front of the coffeepot and contemplate my choices. Do I? Don’t I? I take a tiny mug out of the cabinet. Maybe just a little bit. No. I put the mug back and walk away.
Am I going to be late? Can’t be late on the last day.
Jeebus. They all need picture retakes.
Linger.
Saying all the right things.
Another box from Guatemala, but only one box. Home tops and bottoms—four more to go.
Walking in circles around the house trying to find my water glass.
The spaciousness of a game-free day.
Shooting my shot.