Wed, 10/12/2016 - 17:41
Morning and Muse often arrive together. Today their light cast long shadows across the wood floor. The house was still. Up before the others I sipped fresh coffee from a white cup. Quietly the glass door to my home-office opened. Carly’s head peeked in, her blond hair looking, as she often does in the morning, like Phyllis Diller’s. She climbed to my lap, reached and sipped a nip of coffee and rested her head on my shoulder. And there we shared a long quiet hug.