Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Seven
Someone came in here again last night.
Bacon and hash browns and coffee, oh my.
I don’t think an alarm would help anyway. I’d still have to go in there to get him up and out.
They ask if they can walk home from school. I hesitate but then agree. As long as they stick together it should be fine, right?
Children are expensive.
I reread through my answers and her responses and I see myself so clearly. I see that I am still punishing myself for what didn’t happen. Still shaming myself for things that happened almost 15 years ago. It’s a wonder any of us can persist. We carry so much with us.
No cloud in the sky. The sound of the palm trees rustling. I didn’t know it got so breezy here. But then again, we are in a valley.
Navy blue cashmere.
“We can walk home every day. That way you can nap!” I laugh. She is serious. I take them up on the offer. Besides, the walking is good for them. And, gosh. They’re going to remember me as being perpetually tired. It is true. I am always tired.
Post dinner glass of wine outside. No dogs barking. The glow of sunset on the houses. One dove perched on the roof’s peak.