Ten.Four Hundred & Fifty-Eight
So very dark. Evidence of rain against the window screens.
In my dream, the agent left awful feedback about the house. I realize it’s a nightmare and wake up way before the alarm.
Smoothie bowl. Hemp hearts. Granola. Walnuts.
I’m spoiled by this personal taxi service. He drives me to the arboretum to meet her. I read while he drives. I look up now and again to see bits of yellow on the trees. This is my favorite time of the year.
We make our way to the troll that overlooks the highway. The angles of his face and the nails on his toes and fingers. Even the circles of his eyes. Art can take so many forms and art is very present in these seemingly crude structures.
I text her our totals for the day: 4.2 miles and 10,000 steps. A reminder that exercise can feel good. That sometimes it’s not just cardio that’s good for the heart, but fellowship and a warm cup in your hands. Being heard and seen. That’s the kind of exercise we all need.
The light in the corner of the windowsill. Buying that eucalyptus was a good idea.
It takes me a full 90 minutes to blow dry her hair and twist it up for the night. I envy the length and silkiness of her strands.
One year. One year. Only one year to go.