Ten.Two Thousand, Seven Hundred & Fourteen
A thin layer of fog.
Two feathers, one big and one small.
Thinking about the weight of the day before and remembering that there are only so many problems I can solve.
Small cups of coffee but not enough time for morning pages.
Someone tries to walk through the front door, but it’s locked, so they have to knock. I wonder who is at the door who knows that it’s usually open.
We share an almond madeline and a ham suisse and short updates on life. She asks me about my book. What book? I tell her I’m still trying to get last summer’s Ten Things printed before my classes resume in two weeks.
Heavy sighs.
So much laundry.
He asks if someone can take him to the store to get batteries and snacks. Do I want to? No. Will I? Yes. There will come a time when I will miss these kinds of requests.
Okay. If I go to sleep now, I can get 4.5 hours.