Morning Memo
On days I work at home I watch the house slowly empty. First Celia, early, so early, for high school. Then Tom with bike and helmet. He'll ride to work today. And next Suzanne, off to her job in Arlington. A parade of goodbyes and then, finally, silence.
I pour myself another cup of tea. I read a few pages from a favorite book. And then I place my fingers on the keyboard, willing the words to come, hoping they will flow smoothly today.
Copper lounges by my side. Partings are hard for him, too. But he doesn't need to process them.
I pour myself another cup of tea. I read a few pages from a favorite book. And then I place my fingers on the keyboard, willing the words to come, hoping they will flow smoothly today.
Copper lounges by my side. Partings are hard for him, too. But he doesn't need to process them.
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