Brew
She stared at the mug in her hand, eyes unfocused, smiling lightly. This was a good day. Nothing much to it, really. It wasn't that something good had happened. Just that nothing bad had, either. Not a single thing. No spilled milk, no tipped salt shaker, no accidental nicks in the shower. Even the trashbag, usually stubbornly vacuum sealed into the can, had come away easily.
Jacob was on a school trip for the weekend, and Kira was having her very first big-girl slumber party across town.
Everything was so perfect. Almost frighteningly so.
Nathaniel came home, as he generally did, to the slanting, honeyed light of late afternoon and found her like that, just staring. The once-iced tea had gone warm between her fingers.
But, the very second he opened his mouth to speak, the stillness was shattered, and she was a blazing flurry of movement. Arms, hands, legs, and suddenly he was upstairs, and he couldn't remember how or why but it was good and who was he to complain?
It would be hard, very hard, for children conceived on the perfect day to lead a life that would do anything but pale in comparison.
Jacob was on a school trip for the weekend, and Kira was having her very first big-girl slumber party across town.
Everything was so perfect. Almost frighteningly so.
Nathaniel came home, as he generally did, to the slanting, honeyed light of late afternoon and found her like that, just staring. The once-iced tea had gone warm between her fingers.
But, the very second he opened his mouth to speak, the stillness was shattered, and she was a blazing flurry of movement. Arms, hands, legs, and suddenly he was upstairs, and he couldn't remember how or why but it was good and who was he to complain?
It would be hard, very hard, for children conceived on the perfect day to lead a life that would do anything but pale in comparison.