I’ve had more of these lately, though I wouldn’t say that trying to squeeze out an additional 10,000 words in a week is easy, it is surely more enjoyable than waking up at 4am to a screaming infant. Enjoy your Sunday, folks!
I miss you.
I remember those times when you would roll up, all cool and slow, and we would greet you like a long-forgotten friend. You would show up with your hat full of rainy-day ideas, bags stuffed full of lazy afternoon notions and un-hurried schemes, splaying them on the carpet in jumbles and heaps. We didn’t worry about the mess. Mondays were for messes.
You always brought the crossword, sometimes smudged from the freshness of the ink. We’d take turns, boyfriend/girlfriend, pencils scrambling to fill in those blank, little boxes. Boyfriend took sports. Girlfriend always fared better with books.
When we were awake enough to hear rumblings, we’d head out for brunch. Proper brunch; not bagel and cream cheese brunch. New York brunch. Bloody Marys and mimosas and corn beef hash and eggs anyway you like them. Hash browns and pancakes and coffee strong enough to…
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