Friday, December 12, 2025, 17.5*, 64% RH, 0734
Coffee cools, chocolate settles. I need a spoon. Piece of moon: decoration for bare branches. Mariah’s breath, icy. I’d rather play the drum than take pills. Until the box of dog biscuits arrives, the three are rewarded with animal cookies. I don’t look to see what animal I’m feeding each of them. They don’t look either. If a truck can slip slide its way to this house, the biscuits should arrive today.
Wind chimes sing through all seasons.
Photo: LJ Austin
