Ten.Seven Hundred & Seventy-Four
I wake up before the alarm; the light coming from the monitors wakes me. Maybe I do need a thicker curtain there?
The pancakes keep burning.
I really wish they wouldn’t cross in the middle of the street. They should really use the crosswalk. One of the these days someone is going to get hit.
Yes. This was the right choice.
So dry. The sky looks dusty.
I could spend forever in here sifting through linens and papers and wooden bread boards. But I”m really only here for the vintage silverware that’s on sale. 12 forks, 12 spoons, 12 butter knives. We find a vintage french champagne bucket for him.
This is not sparkling sake. This is beer.
This place is not much better but I’ll keep the tiny kombucha bottle.
It is so hot. Hot. Very hot. Hot in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.
I find a corner of the sofa that is still illuminated by the evening light. I open the book and read. I don’t know where it’s going.