[100 days of 100 words] 11/100

Today, it just won’t come. Nothing would: not the drive to exercise, or create, or make love. Nothing but laundry. A quiet day that began late and will end early, punctuated by my husband’s homecoming, tasty pizza, and Twin Peaks.

Quiet. Even these words come slow. My brain isn’t tickled by fancies tonight; it wants only to sleep. The heat comes on and adds to the ambient noise of the house: my husband’s new phone, my happy housemates in the other room, the rattle and hum of my hard drive. It’s simply time for bed.

Wait... what in the world...?

[100 days of 100 words] 12/100 By request

Per this comment, from yesterday, I give you the below.



The pennies just keep coming.

First was the one at the bottom of my purse, that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times I was sure I’d taken it out and put it in the kitchen jar.

Then I found one under my pillow. Fell off my nighttable, I figured.

Then there were three in the mailbox, with the mail. Into the jar they went.

But the jar wasn’t enough. Now my floors run with copper. The bathtub is rimed in green. I sleep in a nest of Lincoln’s heads.

I thought that pennies were useless. They thought different.