I was back at the kitchen table again, and it was freezing there. Not making this up because today’s word is freeze. It’s always cold there, where we do the boy’s homework and eat dinner. Yeah, I’m the guy who makes his kid do his homework on Friday night. I could’ve told the robot to raise the temperature for the AC. But the cat meowed and I thought it would be a good opportunity to go write outside. Summer is over for most of the country and I guess it’s snowing in some of Canada? But in Miami, it can still be hot. Yet it’s nice outside today. But the table on the deck is still flipped over on its top from when we did that for the hurricane. It’s less likely to fly away like this. And the tiles that make up its surface are still in the shed. The keys to the shed? Someone who lives in this house has lost them… And that’s all I can say about that in case she reads this. This is a true story.

So I’m on the couch in the reading nook, which is just what we call this space, even though the bookshelves are gone, back at my dad’s house from when I moved out. It’s cold here, too and I could tell the robot to raise the temperature and the cat wouldn’t meow because he’s already outside, but actually, this spot is comfy. This is a nice place to write and freeze. 

Leave a comment