Ten.Two Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Three
I turn over onto my stomach and listen to the quiet.
Don’t think about it being Sunday.
Now the show is starting to pick up. Just like most of his books, this one is a slow burn.
Perhaps in another life, investigative journalism would be the job for me.
I stop at the threshold and appreciate the beauty of the light. How did we get so lucky? Oh yes, I asked for this.
Where’s the delivery?
But, really. Where is the delivery?
Tra Vigne pepperoni pizza. She reads the back of the salad bag to see where comes from. “It’s from California,” she says. Okay. We can eat it.
Reminding myself that this is something I get to be excited about. The internship means I am rounding the corner. It’s almost the end. And think of all the good I’ll be able to do.
School starts in a week.
