Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Eight
A soft knock on the door. It’s still dark. That’s why she was trying to call me yesterday.
Laying in bed, eyes closed, but awake and thinking of the one thing that must be accomplished today.
Sunny drives down Highway 29. The vines are brown blurs with flashes of bright yellow every now and again. Blue sky, green hillsides, light reflecting off the tiny ponds leftover from the atmospheric rivers.
In and out.
Given the state of the world, they aren’t wrong.
I tell him that I just want them to feel the reward of all the hard work they’ve done this season.
I just feel like risotto.
This feeling again.
I look at the clock and see that it’s already 8:10 pm and know that there’s no chance I’ll be up for much longer than this.
We really need a 4-day work-week.
