John made beet quesadillas and we watched Game of Thrones. They were delicious and it was a good one.
Sleepy train ride home through a gray. misty Jersey.
Standing near hot coals in the misting rain, children running through bubbles, wine in cheap plastic cups, laughing late into the night.
Driving around asbury as the sun sets looking for odd little hidden treasures, ice cream in Ocean Grove, my favorite small children in pajamas. Home.
The sunset light over Manhattan.
Home alone. I stir-fried veggies, drank good red wine, and wrote to my heart’s content.
Challenging yoga class. I felt strong.
We have a wardrobe, like real grown-ups.
The sun was setting over the city in that golden way it does sometimes. After buying the wine I ran to the promenade and watched it sink behind Manhattan until it was gone and only the colors were left.
I’m no good at small talk. To compensate I drank too much wine and ate lots of cheese.