Today was a three cookie day. If it were warmer, it would also be a day to walk a few miles in the almost-rain.
It’s a day whose perspective is on the other side of a kaleidoscope.
Can you even still find a kaleidoscope? Or a two-foot tall tin ironing board with accompanying iron, made to fit in a five-year-old hand?
Could I find the cafe that served tartiflette in Annecy on the one day I was there two years and four months ago?
I think I’ve been putting off thinking too long – or rather thinking to the necessary conclusion, since with me it’s not just thinking but overthinking that is the norm.
tension is to be loved
when it is like a passing note
to a beautiful, beautiful chord
[sixpence none the richer, ‘tension is a passing note’]