Monday, November 10, 2025, 46.9%, 95% RH, 0716
Mariah shoved raindrops against windows spraying cryptic messages on screens, digital patterns, hidden messages for those who can decipher. Blew one of the spaceship lights from its base crashing it on the ground. Paper wasp nest, immune to Mariah’s huffing and howling remains on its branch but her fury forbade bowls in the lawn to gather water.
Something furry like a man’s winter hat, glimpsed through the window. Chris wasn’t wearing that, wouldn’t wear that. Who’s walking in the yard? Why did no dogs bark? As I slide the door, a plump gray squirrel inspecting a Tiki Torch jumps from the railing. I hope he is long away from our fenced-in-land.
Mariah cannot extinguish candles that glow in these windows.
Photo: LJ Austin
