Steamrolled Saturday
Cal, Tal, and Nia hovered over Typist’s still body.
“Should we wake her?” Calliope whispered.
“Uh… no! Without her we’ve got the place to ourselves… Think of the havoc… I mean magic we can create.” Thalia tapped the keyboard.
Urania gently shut the laptop’s lid, mindful of Thalia’s fingers.
A word from sleepy Typist:
Fatigue and grumpy digestion are driving today. CURE!
I am grateful for warm weather and the few minutes I sat under the sun’s rays while listening to the bird’s spring cacophony.
What is something you are grateful for?
For these notes in my inbox and your lively thoughts. For the second wave of narcissus bloom - the little white ones, with a yellow center and heavy scent. For the cat who makes me chase him, then won’t sleep anywhere I’m not.
I'm grateful for Typist and all that she does. I'm grateful for the joy and inspiration she provides. On a different note, I'm grateful for French Toast as it provides a near daily(!) platform for maple syrup. And naps, I'm always grateful for naps, especially the 12 minute ones. Toes, toes are important workhorses that deserve some appreciation. They do so much, maybe I should paint mine today to acknowledge them.