I hear the clacking of the blinds first and then I hear his feet making their way across the floor. I was starting to rouse anyway.

Need water.

I check on the snails. Two babies. Two teeny, tiny babies make the morning just right.

Scarf down the hashbrowns to get to the coffee faster.

The words are there.

The thin cloud cover makes being under the sun a little more tolerable. There is a cool breeze. I drag the hammock stand so that my legs will feel the sun.

Dappled light on blank pages.

I keep catching myself looking at their faces and wondering how it’s possible I gave birth to all three of them. Who let me be responsible for the care of humans? How strange it is to have the capability of bearing and raising life when one knows so very little about the world.

Bargaining for pieces of candy.

I just want to be done.