Ten.Seven Hundred & Nineteen
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Loud birds.
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I make the coffee, drink water while it percolates. I check the clock again. How much longer will I be alone.
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I hear him open the blinds. He’s waking earlier and earlier. Too much on the mind.
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I still can’t figure out exactly why they needed to make repairs to the road. I’m sure someone on Nextdoor is complaining about wasted tax dollars.
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Work tomorrow and Sunday. I should make this an easy day.
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We go over the goals. I forget how much can be accomplished in such short time. We make new goals, wonder about empathy, whether we should care about aging and whether it matters if we do.
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I slink back into the hammock. Most of me is in the shade but I stick my legs out into the sun to feel the burn.
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It’s so silly that he won’t eat the pasta because it has fresh tomatoes.
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Still nothing. Still waiting. Still thinking that even if it doesn’t happen it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Because there’s still all of this.
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Just remember the intention.