1. The pleasant pull of metal on skin as an earring hook slips through my lobe. A moment of consideration then a reverse tug and release. No earrings today.
2. I find something I wrote five years ago about something that happened fifteen years ago. It’s fun to re-read and reinforces my desire to (privately) document more of my memories before I forget them.
3. We walk to the supermarket hand in hand. John’s fingertips are surprisingly cold to the touch. I let go to tap the new strangely low roadsign as we walk underneath it. Our hands reconnect on the other side.
4. We’ve been at the office all day so the cats make up for lost time when we get home. Carla stretches out on my chest and I breathe through her fur while I catch-up on comics. Boron circles my legs as I cut green beans. Carbon hangs back until the blanket appears then bags a prime spot, the knee not occupied by the laptop.