Ten.Two Thousand, Seven Hundred & Sixty-Six
Saturday. I need more sleep.
Already so warm.
I pick the community table and set out the packets. A cup of half-caff-half-decaf and a bacon-and-cheddar scone.
He’s excited. She’s excited. I’m excited. We’re all excited, and that means it’s going to be another good season. Twenty-nine days.
Prepared, selfless, joyful.
This is the most I’ve seen him all week. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed him. He’s here, but he’s not here.
Outlining the fake case I need to create. I choose Hank Hill. Surely, there’s enough to work with here.
They’re off the menu, but she says she’ll make them for me anyway. Sweating while drinking rosé and eating salad. Even in the shade, there’s not much respite.
Nap.
What in the what?
