Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Forty-Four
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In the dream, we are now trapped in the car. There is water all around us, milky and rising. There is nowhere to go. I am panicking, we cannot find our cars, we are all crying.
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I wake myself up, still awash with a sense of dread.
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Finally, coffee.
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I turn around and look at her. Tank top. No sweater. It’s 41 degrees. Can you even wear straps that thin? “Find something now,” I say, knowing full well the sweater will be off once she gets to school.
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We are ready to conquer the morning. Only 25% of the shoot left to complete.
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I bring him the Wall Street Journal. Tell him that it usually goes in the recycling bin because I never make time to sit and read it. I'm glad to pass it on to him so he can enjoy such a momentous occasion.
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I forgot to give him the covid test. When can I come? I have no idea. I don't know when I can escape, I tell the nurse. I put down the phone and stare out at the tops of the trees. It just is what it is.
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Sweating as we remove the covers. Birds nests falling out of the umbrellas. This is process we will continue to refine.
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We talk about what we think we’d like to be doing in 10 years. “I really don't know, Yoshi. I’m just trying to get to the point where I can live in my little cabin on the coast and farm a little bit and maybe become a potter.” “That is the goal, isn't it?” he confirms.
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More forgetting.
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“Your instincts were right.”