Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirteen
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Late. I worry that I will get too used to waking up at 6am.
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Leftover salmon on a bed of local salad greens. Thick slice of butter. Coffee.
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I actually don’t mean to be doing this.
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13 years. It seems like a lucky number.
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I take a big glass of water with me, stick my legs in the sun. It is so quiet right now. I close my eyes.
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That almost felt too easy. Plans excite me. This is only the beginning.
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She’s drinking tea.
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Honey-lavender ice cream.
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The hills look soft, like large golden pillows. I could curl my body to fit into their downy folds, melting into the shadows.
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Just look at how far we’ve come.