Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Seven
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Slowly.
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Clarifying questions of self.
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To sit and drink coffee without interruption is a gift.
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After the call I yell out his name. No answer. I look for his shoes under the bench: red pair, blue pair, black pair. What is missing? The baseball cleats.
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Down the mountain again. Maybe that option will work.
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I hear how it is sounding as it’s coming out of my mouth and even though I think I’m speaking without emotion, I know how it’s landing and there’s no way to keep it from landing like it is.
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Maybe I should have said nothing.
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He gives the barber a fist bump before heading out.
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I sit on the edge of the garden bed under an arch of braided wisteria branches. The flowers are not yet in bloom. It is a perfect little house, but not the perfect little house for us.
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Vanilla milkshake with rainbow sprinkles.