The House is quiet.
It can’t get any darker than 4:15 in December.
He said my eyes glowed green in the afternoon light before the sun gently fell.
The garage was cleaned enough to house the car.
There was enough wood left over from last year for at least one fire.
The surgery would end spinal pain eventually, if successful.
2 weeks of 37 staples down the back, a painful zipper.
Some would visit.
The dog and cat draw near.
Hospitals are sad places.
Nervous birds blend in with the curled oak’s tired hands before supper.
One foot of winter stepping in seems cruel already.
Maybe snow for Christmas.
How are you?