The computer hums and snickers a nag like clanging spoons upon my beloved soup pot. And it cries, “Pay attention to me!”
But I refuse my electro-taskMaster and languish over recycled morning coffee. At the window, the last vestige of daylight offers itself and chittering birds, fluff for sleep.
The ice cream truck chirps its incongrous tune then fades fast into the still of nightfall. Spaghetti sauce simmers on the stove and my ‘thank-God-it’s-the-end-of-the-work-day’ cigarette plumes with more grace than I can muster. (Oh, my aching back and throbbing feet.) Tells my brain: Relax – Stop thinking – Give it a rest.
Emails and obligations await. Dust bunnies conspire to ambush. And that laundry is not going to put itself away. (Damn it.)
Still, I stick. Watch the final light fade and fold into the night sky.
Home. It’s good to bE.
What’s clanging Christine’s spoon?