I look below the desk for the red light.

Decaf and leftover lemon tart.

I stand at the top of the stairs and look down below to look at how the light fills the room.

“Sparks” by Coldplay. I feel as though I could burst out into tears. What is the memory in my body?

Wrong destination.

I like rainy days. I want to lay on the sofa and close my eyes and wrap myself in the gray light.

What is he doing here?

Her face and her voice. Her energy.

I remember.

What day is it?