It’s early. I’m overlooking our yard and driveway. At the end of the driveway are whiskey barrels on each side. They are dark and the wood is thick and smell of aged whiskey. In the barrels, flowers grow rapidly. Neighbors walk past and they smile and point.
My nearly spent cigar is lit and I’m writing and I’m happy. My window is open and the birds are here. And damn the sun is out. And damn it’s nice.
Here- Let’s live outside ourselves, so we may see each other better.