Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Six
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Where is the soreness from?
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I complain every evening about the loss of light but I’m so grateful for promise of dawn; to have the morning light seeping in by 7.
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Coffee. Today I actually have time to sit on the sofa and read before I need to go. Little luxuries.
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I approach the crest of the hill and there on the horizon are the turbines, so thin and unmoving.
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Today I opt for a story.
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I’m not sure why I need so much convincing.
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The days are going by much faster even though the week is going by so slowly. A combination of newness and the unknown.
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I remember that I have two collections of Sharon Olds poetry that I bought in Boonville at Hedgehog books. That will be next.
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The water is so hot that I can feel the sweat rolling down my forehead but it’s the perfect temperature for me to finish reading the last two chapters of this book. I dog ear the last five pages. So many things I want to remember.
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What does a life beyond domesticity look like?