Heading outdoors at night, to cars making slow, uncertain turns and buses sighing against the curb. I'm at peace with the world for the moment.
The dish of eggplant parmigiana is about the size of a tire, and I'm too deep in good conversation to eat much of it.
A heavy meal mid-afternoon - soup, salad, potatoes, meat, as sunlight seeps onto the table like honey.
She doesn't hold a grudge, but welcomes everyone and gives hugs and kisses freely. Something in her remains relaxed in the face of how disappointing people can be.
In the upstairs room, most of the books are gone. In their place are pamphlets.
Some of the kids score goals or make clean passes that show they've been training. Other kids aren't as skilled, but at least seem to like playing. One boy has a hard time of it. He's kicked in the chest by an angry player from the other team (who gets booted out). Later in the game, the ball slams into his face. It's just not his day, but he stays in the game as long as he can.
A sunlit path, shrubs on one side, water on the other, and bicycles humming like wasps.