Tonight, we moved the kitten’s litter box from the kitchen to the attic, which we refer to as the cats’ room, but we pretend not to know it’s also the lab where they’re building robots. We wink when the mailman delivers parts. We know exactly where to look for missing screwdrivers and small power tools. Cross your fingers: Topaz will soften and we’ll find kitten-size lab coats in the hamper.
One of my oldest friends is very ill. I’m restless and having trouble finishing -
We are about to embark on a series of concurrent adventures, which means I can’t pick a pair of kicks.
Any damn thing could happen this week. By dinnertime tomorrow, I may demand Pete build me my own window sill.