Thursday, December 11, 2014

Has far to go

It must have snowed all night. The groaning plows woke me before dawn.
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D hatched a plan to raise funds for your expenses. It's been less than a day, we're more than halfway to goal, and I am shaken, again, by the generosity of friends.
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I cooked breakfast. Had to throw out the salsa you made last week. Used the toaster oven but the tray was too big. Improvised with foil, just like on Cutthroat Kitchen. Could feel you laughing.
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Your Scruff account held no surprises. I'm glad we were open that way.
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I can't seem to keep the dishes washed.
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The cable goes today. They couldn't say when but said they'd call. I don't miss television.
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Some people say the worst things.
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Your shoes huddle where you left them, open-mouthed, like dogs, waiting to serve.
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I'm making a forgiveness list, but I told a driver to fuck off as he tried to go around me in the crosswalk yesterday. I know, I know.
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You got a heartbreaking e-mail from a married guy who can't believe what he saw in the paper.
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It's an Eva Cassidy kind of morning.

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