I don’t hear an alarm but I know that it’s close to the time for me to wake. I hear him huffing, doing his workouts.

I start to walk out to the kitchen and he comes through with the little blug mug of coffee. I head back to the bed but change the sheets first. Fresh and crisp and cool. Hot coffee in my hands. Journal in my lap.

Lucky Charms.

Rose, white and wet from the morning’s rain. So delicate. So quiet in their beauty.

Jim and Pam.

Cramped fingers and cold, tired feet.

I think of her words. “Maybe next year…You are a master manifestor…What if you thought you could earn money with ease?”

I make a mental list of what is to be done tomorrow. Everyone seems very concerned about cranberry sauce and what will be for breakfast on Christmas morning. I just want to make sure I have plenty of coffee.

Too long.

“Few people, very few, have a treasure, and if you do you must hang on to it. You must not let yourself be waylaid, and have it taken from you.” - from “Chance” by Alice Munro