Today is a day for dreaming. To get lost in tea cups and patterns on the table. Warm and overcast brings silent contemplation of objects out of focus. my book tells its story to the table while i watch the spiderwebs vibrate. the sun finds a spot on the stairs and wavers in the shadows of the ceiling fan. perfect cut-out clouds roll slowly above the skylight, sun fades. the quiet is full of perfection. every sound alive every object still. except for the ceiling fan, and the wind chime’s gentle *tink*. above my head.
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