your expectations.”
“An important distinction.”
She suggested I use it for my keys.
“That feels safer than soup.”
“Much safer.”
We chose a day, and she drove away with a final wave.
Upstairs, the apartment smelled faintly of basil and garlic. Two dessert forks waited beside the sink. I washed them, put one away, and paused with the other in my hand, smiling at the quiet room.
A few weeks earlier, I had caught a box because there had been no time to consider doing anything else.
Everything that mattered
