Ten.Seven Hundred & Thirty-One
Almost too cool to be in this short dress. What are we even doing today?
I watch the shadows dance. Black and gold. He’ll laugh at me if I tell him I want to move the sofa so that my view is directly toward the window instead of the wall. I want to make it more conducive to daydreaming.
I tell him my plan. He doesn’t seem amused.
“I am the source of time.” - The Big Leap. I think I’m ready for a re-read of that.
The email surprises me but in a good way. This is more of what I’m looking for.
I make a mental note of the dates. It’s going to happen this year.
I didn’t make it to the hammock. Two days in a row I’ve missed my hammock time. There is time tomorrow.
The ground is littered with plums that are not beginning to rot and so the smell is sweet but also not-so-sweet. I need to shovel as much as I can up and get it out of the yard. Or at least raked off to the side.
I dream of new spaces in a new place. Where will that place be? How long will we be here? Where else is there to go?