Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Two
Monday, Monday, Monday.
Decaf in the French press, plus frothy vanilla oat milk.
Six hundred words.
I put on my mask and start to strip the bed, spray the pillows and mattress with Lysol, put on fresh everything, and throw the old stuff in the wash. I make him take another test just to be sure. Still positive.
She is having trouble finding the vein.
Insurance. But I think we both understand one another now. Please just send this referral to the other cardiologist.
Nervous, so nervous.
Seventeen total. It feels like a good amount, the right amount.
Maybe my math is off.
You can make the hard decision today, or make a hard decision tomorrow.
