Ten.Seven Hundred & Thirty-One
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Almost too cool to be in this short dress. What are we even doing today?
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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.
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I tell him my plan. He doesn’t seem amused.
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“I am the source of time.” - The Big Leap. I think I’m ready for a re-read of that.
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The email surprises me but in a good way. This is more of what I’m looking for.
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I make a mental note of the dates. It’s going to happen this year.
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I didn’t make it to the hammock. Two days in a row I’ve missed my hammock time. There is time tomorrow.
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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.
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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?
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Growth.