Ten.Seven Hundred & Thirteen
Happy to wake up after that dream.
It feels cool. I walk to all the empty rooms and open up the windows.
I yell at him for not eating a real breakfast. He tells me I sound like my mom. He’s right. I’m decided that’s not a bad thing.
The ball clips him on the helmet but seems okay.
I stretch my legs out into the sun. I’m sad to miss the book chat but glad to be here tanning in the bleachers, watching him cross home plate, cheering on the children.
I eat my sandwich standing up.
Finally, it’s done.
Learning to be okay with good enough.