Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Two
Waking up softly.
Morning sky in the desert: soft and magical and slow.
Bacon and eggs and a big, hot cup of decaf.
These highways are so wide and flat, and this early in the morning, empty.
I find a spot on the field in the sun, lay down, and look at the bright blue sky. Deep breaths.
One and done. An anticlimactic way to end the experience.
She says I can also rest since I don’t really get to do that these days. She’s right. I slide under the covers and close my eyes.
I love it, but I couldn’t survive the summers.
Solo hot tub sit. Cool night air. All the stars and the quiet.
Stuck on the how.
