Ten.Eight Hundred & Eighteen
I know it’s time to get up even though the coolness of the air around me suggests that it’s best to stay in bed.
I juice the celery. They look watching me make it but won’t dare drink it.
The coffee is too strong.
I spread all the books out on the table, there are papers everywhere, and yellow post-it notes stuck to everything.
It’s so cool this morning that you have to park yourself right in the sun to stay warm. Hot tea isn’t helping all that much. He hit’s a batter with his pitch; I can see the disappointment on his face but he’s not giving up. If he would only apply that kind of thinking to all aspects of his life and not just his baseball games.
We both decide it’s better to be safe than sorry, even though we’re sure that none of these people parking here have any permits. We find a spot that’s at the far end of the parking lot but it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad she’s along for the ride.
I haven’t been in one of these in so many years, maybe since high school, but she has a gift card to use up. I steer her towards a more tolerable, though still powerfully sweet, scent of warm vanilla sugar or something like that. The body spray sparkles.
I’m always so sleepy at these late afternoon games but it’s so cold you can’t help but stay awake.
I tell him my brain is tired. He tells me it’s just time to stop then.
She comes tomorrow. And then we leave the day after that. And then, the day after that, we begin.