There’s the first one.

I am no longer tired anyway.

My eyes keep landing on the words: “miracles are scattered beyond.” The more I read it, the more it feels like an affirmation.

Waffles with melted butter, strawberries, and whipped cream. Orange juice and coffee. Yes, please.

I lift the towel and listen to it sing, watch it dance. “It’s so alive!” Maybe too alive.

I take my book out to the yard. The hammock is too wet. I sit on the patio instead.

No one is bothering me and I guess that’s what I really want on Mother’s Day - to be left alone to my own devices. To not have to labor over anything. But there is always more laundry.

There’s that sneeze.

I catch myself. There is no reason to do that. Doing that would keep me on the path and I think I’m ready to take a different route.

How does one just disappear?