Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-One
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Maybe what I needed was a good night of sleep.
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Leftover rice and baby bok choy for breakfast. Coffee. Photography book for morning reading.
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This is a little better.
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Yes. Much better today.
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I collect more of the fallen plums, tossing the some into a bucket for compost and gently placing others into a bowl for the jam. I think I finally have enough to get started.
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I pit the plums. Flesh and juice run down my fingers, make my wrists sticky. I cover the fruit with sugar and I add cinnamon because I love cinnamon and it seems appropriate even though the recipe doesn’t mention it.
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He reads me the email. Still, my gut tells me, “no.”
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They say they are thinking of Florida, it’s too expensive for them to be here. I worry that I can’t fast-track my vision. Things happen in their own time. Whatever is most right.
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The anger comes from fear; fear from lack of understanding; lack of understanding from avoidance of pain. We are so very good at avoiding.
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I will eventually get around to those text messages.