Not enough time.

He drives him. I stay back and throw a load into the wash and contemplate the day.

The light is too good.

I’m doing it again and I know I’m doing it again.

The sound of helicopters hovering overhead. I keep looking toward the sky and see nothing.

But this light.

I watch the number on the scale climb. It does not surprise me. I can feel these six pounds.

She keeps prefacing everything with a disclaimer: “It’s not that you’re old, you are not old…”

It’s almost time.

It’s up to me.