The lake I first fell in love with lays calm in the frozen air. It’s blue edged in lighter blue that fades to white as the ice and snow take over. The water laps softly at the shore.
I stare from the window of the warm room. I see a religious statue, marking its place in the world, significant for few.
Trudging out into the snow-covered parking lot, I find my illegally parked and still frozen car.
I come home to my cluttered apartment, hot and bright. I open the window to let some air in and then close the fridge, which sometimes doesn’t seem to stay shut.
I pull leftover out and compile a meal of sorts. Peanut butter, celery, raisins, a diet soda, a taco from dinner last night.
We sprawl on the furniture, exhausted in the early evening. There is no end. Tomorrow I can sleep in. And I will.
It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it?