Dusk – where did the day go? Up in the mountains, I look out my window. The lavender patch of the sky, sandwiched between cadet blue and celeste, is fading fast. Only the heavy puffs of gray remains, huffing out of smokestacks of apartments built a decade ago. It’s necessary. Nine degrees. I dare not step out.

I only see a fraction of the two canopy trees – enough. Their bark is stripped white and their twigs sport a easy-to-snap look. The spindly arms still cling onto withered dry leaves. Why is it always so hard to let go?

With a click, I turn the light on.


what do I tell my kids?

at five, i knew i’d be successful
seven a teacher, eight a pediatrician
twelve my first B disappointment
thirteen a librarian, fifteen a love
unsupported hidden wild roots fantasy
seventeen psychology career path
twenty-one and teaching my love
writing stew on back burner simmering
end of day so exhausted i can’t taste