Monday, March 31, 2025, 31*
Should I add a dollop of soap before they go out, a do-it-yourself bath, a rain rinse cycle? The three don’t appreciate a cold-water shampoo, neither do I. If they’d shake before they came inside like the washer spin cycle, they’d be much easier to dry. Now we all need a towel.
Startled awake by unresolved memories—the ifs, the ands, the what could’ve beens. Useful only for preventing or interrupting the great escape, sleep. It began when I fell asleep in my chair; by the time I got into bed I realized I couldn’t find my glasses. I couldn’t find them this morning standing shining a light under the bed’s edge. The house is dark inside this dark morning, lights are required to walk safely around. I have no interest in falling or figuring out how to sit on the floor to look under the bed then get up again. Hopefully my glasses are somewhere else. No bulges appear in the made-up bed so hopefully they aren’t in there. They could be under a pillow, but I would’ve never put them there.
Perhaps another rinse/dry cycle will wake me, shake loose the memory of where my glasses have been. When I turned on the light, looked closely, beside the yarn on the dark wooden table, I could see the blue rims just where I’d left them.
“Anyone who loves their brother and sister
lives in the light, and
there is nothing in them to make them stumble.”
1 John 2:10 NIV
Art: LJ Austin
