I’ve lived in this place five months though I’ve spent very few daylight hours here. I kept a calendar too full of plans over the summer so I would know I was loved. I had not noticed how pretty my living room looks in the morning when the sun is on the floor, mirroring eighteen windowpanes. The tree outside is bending and sending rippling shadows through the sunbeams.
Something is using my stomach to practice an arsenal of Scout’s knots; something is changing. I walked and walked to unknot myself. I want to be serene like I said I could (would) be, but oh, I am so not cool.
Then I saw my floor, remembered who I am, and for just two minutes, felt still.