Ten.Two Thousand & Sixty-Three
Up earlier than expected.
Ah, her face. I’ve missed her face.
Right. We manifested these places.
The fog is lifting. The birds are still singing. The olive tree is swaying in the breeze. Ripples in the pond.
Mind racing even though I want it to be still.
I choose a chicken recipe from Ottolenghi. I crush the garlic and slice the dates, scoop out the capers and olives and mix it all together.
I regret not taking that walk.
Sunday scaries.
But really, it’s not the worst thing.
Try again tomorrow.
