It is a full moon and a mild morning. And a walk around the block that I would have done better taking alone. Beginning a new week with old arguments. The kind that rub on the same spot and threaten to fray everything.
Old resentments rush like metal shavings to a magnet.
It is good to remember how the other day I read something about everyone wanting out of their current life – and I thought: nah.
It is a reminder that things will settle again. Probably in the same old painful places, but settled, and the kind of thing you adjust for without too much effort.
I’ve rearranged the furniture in this little library. Put a vase of dried flowers on the little side table. They dried in the vase. 6 months – maybe more.
I can’t decide if they make me sad. Or if they just are. There is a story there that I won’t write.
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