On a walk down the dark path, I hear the rat traps popping by the side of the building.
Leaves are spiraling down, swirling around my head, and a bright moon is peeking past the edge of a skyscraper.
One chocolate chip cookie helps him through math. The second cookie remains uneaten, and he has poked his pencil through it in frustration.
I don't know what else is going on in their lives or if they'll even be back next week, but I appreciate that they're here now - a group of men and women playing folk music in the waning light.
I like how she and I slip into easy conversation as if we haven't not spoken for several years.
Now and then, I dose myself with an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, a show that's funny and undemanding.
The assignment moves towards completion, one paragraph after another. The paragraphs sometimes shift position for greater flow and cohesion. It's a slow but inexorable process.