she sits in the armchair by the windows, light falling onto her hair and upon the book she reads. the light makes her lemon-lime jello glow like an emerald, she tells me.
he is upstairs in the bathroom brushing his teeth, humming one day more from les miserables.
the other he – the mister – is likely sitting at his desk right now, doing what he does as an aerospace engineer.
and i sit here at my desk, fingers tapping the keyboard, claiming these few moments for my own.
outside, the sun pushes its way from behind the clouds, the grey gives way to blue. this sky that hangs over me right now extends on and on hanging over you as well…wherever you are in this world. i like to think about this sometimes as i look up at the sky…to think that we’re all under the same great sky. ralph waldo emerson wrote: the sky is the daily bread of eyes.
so i beg of you to look up. at least once every day. and feast, my friend.
sending a little love your way, m