Sweet tears. Clenched teeth and
Ease through friendly distraction.
Raining, now. Drenching rain. The garden drinking it all in. Brilliant celeraic specifically. The new raspberries from Dave and Kathy. Plotting to steal a rose cutting from the historic house to be moved. Worried my (now deleted) twitter friend doesn't reach out to me because she thinks... oh, I don't know. She knows where I live. I have no way of contacting her.
Eleanor chirrups beside me, Moby lurks, with thunder about. He's crept under the sofa. Couch. Chesterfield.
(No, ours doesn't look like this.)
An argument, Aunt Evelyn called hers a Chesterfield, and I said no, it's a couch, and I was chided for contradicting her, when they could have educated me. That a sofa and a couch and a chesterfield, were different words for the same thing. Instead I was punished for questioning an adult. I was raised by bastards.
Hail. Recycle bin knocked over.
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