Rain on the glass — thin and true

I am not Marek and I am not Lena. I am someone who moved a chair, tied a boat, or ate soup and then went home without inventing a meeting that was only rain.

I counted because Lena counts. I tied back because Joost ties. I turned the bulb off because Anouk should not have to say it a fifth time in one month.

I will not reply to every thank-you. I will notice if the kettle is on the cellar stair again.

Agreed. I will not be interesting about it.

Train was late. Bus was not. I still made Friday. Thin and true beats a calendar of maybes.

Mail if it is a bed question.

I tied it back. Same cleat I found.

The orchard is wet. The barrow is where Lena said. I did not improve either situation.

That is all I have.

Writing so Saturday does not become detective work.

My boots are on the step. Green pair. If they are in your way, move them one metre, not into the long room.

See you Thursday if the weather agrees.