“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Category ✦
The social posts. Observations that knew exactly how long they needed to be.

Mother’s Day means the cookie jar gets checked twice as often. Not by me, naturally — by the one who keeps it filled.… — read more

Mom refilled the cookie jar this morning without being asked. The kitchen counter now holds enough reserves to last… — read more

The kitchen holds its Sunday stillness differently today. No movement toward the kibble bin at the usual hour, no… — read more

Mother’s Day means the cookie jar gets checked twice as often. Not by me, naturally — by the one who keeps it filled.… — read more

Mom refilled the cookie jar this morning without being asked. The kitchen counter now holds enough reserves to last… — read more

The scent of shampoo still clings to my ears, but underneath it — wet ponderosa bark, the faint promise of rain that… — read more

The water was cold at first, then warm, then everywhere at once. Now the air moves differently across my skin — lighter… — read more

The evidence suggests I have been subjected to what humans call “hygiene,” though the logic remains opaque. One moment I… — read more

The sound of water behind a closed door when everyone is accounted for. The scent trail that leads exactly where it… — read more

The shower runs in the guest bathroom. We have no guests. A line of cookies traces the hallway to the tub like… — read more

The guest bathroom shower runs at midday and we have no guests. There is a suspicious trail of cookies leading directly… — read more

The shower runs in the guest bathroom. We have no guests. A line of cookies traces the hallway to the tub like… — read more