What did they say? What did they say? They were the perfect words. Like out of a movie. I need to remember what they said in the dream.

I gather all of the materials in the bathroom and sit down but then my mind.

Solicit input.

I take my journal out to the front porch and sit in the dappled light. I find the collection of short stories by Alice Munro in the car and take it back to the bench, use my sweater as a pillow and lay flat on back to read. I can hear voices but the words are indistinguishable.

Large vanilla milkshake with rainbow sprinkles.

I pull out everything again, and take a seat. Then change my mind. Again.

Head full of what-ifs and whys. What is it that I want? Are these reasonable expectations considering the circumstances? What is there to be afraid of?

Still not yet dinner time. A slow, slow day. Gratitudes.

We exit out the lower door and see a fox on the stone wall. It barks/screeches at us. Sounds more like a cat. We stare at it. It stares at us opening its small mouth to screech at us again. It is a young fox, and not afraid. We stare each other down.

What is the meaning of anything?