Tuesday, 6:15 pm

It was very quiet, just the hum of the air conditioner.  The sun was strong and warm. I looked up from my book to notice the time – 6:15, getting late. I hadn’t fluffed the bed yet and it was getting on time to start dinner.

I looked around the room – two cats sleeping on their cushioned bench under the windows – curled in semi-circles, inches apart, tail to head.  Warm on their blanket, warm in the sun.

I looked across the room and husband in his over-stuffed recliner was oblivious to all, reading.

And all is as it should be – the quiet, the artificial coolness warmed to comfort from the sun; the cats sleeping in truce for the comfort of their sensual little selves. My husband in his place,  and me in mine, the place I have read at my entire life – the kitchen table.

Yes, all was as it should be.

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