Today is a perfect fall day and I will sit at my desk and write

Today is a perfect fall day, crisp, pale blue sky threaded with grey clouds.

Today, I will sit at my desk and write.

Today, I will enjoy this cup of coffee and wish for a second one.

Today, I did not get up early for yoga. When the alarm sounded, I turned it off and crawled back into dreamland.

Today, I ate porridge for breakfast, plus an egg with toast.

Today, I kissed and hugged four children, reminded them repeatedly to get ready for school, listened to them play the piano, and bribed one of them to go to math club once a week.

Today, the builders arrived to continue their work.

Today, I will sit at my desk and make up stories about characters I'll never get to meet in real life.

Today, I pause to remember my Gramps. Once, he took me to see wild horses. Mustangs. It was sadder than I thought it would be. I was ten or eleven. The mustangs were corralled for sale on a ranch, of sorts. I remember dust. I don't know what my Gramps thought of it all. What the wild horses meant to him. I think he appreciated the atmosphere of wheeling and dealing. But I know he loved horses, too, like I did. When I think of him, I think of horses.

Today is a perfect fall day, yellow leaves on green grass, and the frost lifted by the sun.

Today, I will write something for Gramps.

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