Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Six
It’s not time yet.
The light is slow to come. There will be rain today.
I miss being able to read the sky. I am trying to learn this one, though without access to as much expanse, it’s difficult. In the next house, I will make sure there is a view.
All black. I think of how she said that I was lucky that this was my uniform since it’s what I like to wear. Yes. All black everything.
Parts of the hillside illuminated from sunlight breaking through the clouds. The cows. Fewer hawks but more sea gulls. Whenever I see a seagull I think of Jonathan Livingston.
I’m kind of happy it’s so slow today.
She starts talking and then she starts crying. She grabs her friend’s are to steady herself. I give them some space. Her husband has called to tell her that he was fired. I bring tissue. And more wine.
I am reminded of the heavy lifting required in partnerships.
But we’ve all done hard things.
I burned the pizza. I just don’t have the energy. Something about a combination of working on a weekday plus being late to pick up the kids from school plus the empathy for the woman in the tasting room plus the rain. And also knowing the other work that awaits this weekend.