Up before the alarm again.

Last night’s conversation led to grits for breakfast this morning.

I tell him I feel like taking tomorrow off, but I know I can’t. There is too much that needs to be done.

I see now that part of the eyebrow is also missing.

I unlock the storage and drag out the container of old retreat supplies. I am looking for scissors, glue, other ephemera for tomorrow night. I put all the magazines in a pile.

Together, we go through every drawer, wipe down every surface, remove every bit of trash. It looks like a room again.

I lay in bed.

He is lying on the floor.

More rain.

More clouds rolling in.