Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred and Fifty-Three
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So dark. I think about the coming fall and winter and the amount of darkness. I’m already missing summer’s light.
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Bullfrog is so darn loud.
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What time is it? How much longer until I can make the coffee? I stick the bacon in the oven and then sit at write.
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Time to bring back the rituals.
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We know what it’s like to be the only one, all of the time. (She always looks like she’s glowing.)
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I thought that was her car. I tell him that I really like her. I really like everyone.
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The tomatoes are so beautiful I don’t even want to cut into them. But I’m dreaming of eating them sliced with a drizzle of olive oil and a light sprinkle of salt and pepper.
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I take myself on a walk, remember that I haven’t listened to On Being in quite some time. The music begins and my body feels different. Church on a Monday in the woods.
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Two feathers. This one is a woodpecker. This one might be a vulture?
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Taste test.