Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Four
The soft tweeting of birds outside the window.
140mg.
The characteristically cloudy sky. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Baby screams. Their quiet chatter and giggles. Her summer playlist.
Spilled tomato soup.
I close my eyes and tilt my head toward the sun. I feel different.
A beautiful reflection.
Newfound freedoms and newfound stresses.
“You are all flowers in bloom.”
Something’s changed, and some things need changing.
Keep counting.
