I wake with the realization that I am sleeping through the night again; it has been months and maybe years since I have managed that. I take it as a good sign. By the time I begin my bike to school, my heart is nestled in small pleasures: the taste of homemade bread, budding cottonwoods, a few low clouds.
We pass each other on the final hill, and I am grateful for my bike - he is walking, and it would be so much worse to have to walk past each other. This way at least, I can zip by with only enough time for hello, and be well past before I crumple. I had forgotton he would be back already. (That is a lie.)
We pass each other on the final hill, and I am grateful for my bike - he is walking, and it would be so much worse to have to walk past each other. This way at least, I can zip by with only enough time for hello, and be well past before I crumple. I had forgotton he would be back already. (That is a lie.)