Fewer words written because of more words spoken, mostly to children that are needy little blessings. More anxiety medicines, migraine medicines. The air heavy with promises all around. More independence in little ones. An absolute disruption in the online college schedule when the campus students merged. Now a month ahead and three flash fictions short. More coffee, as my night hours remain, but now, I get to rise far too early to do domestic tasks that never end. A limp cactus from too much water or too much sunlight. Let’s just agree that too much is so often a problem.
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