I woke up in the middle of the night to a nosebleed. In the dark I could imagine the color, my cupped hand already filling, reaching for tissues. In the morning an ice storm, a two hour delay, lingering over coffee.
At school, everything out of routine, topsy turvy, but we're talking about poems and poems make anything better.
In the evening the sky was navy and threatening, but then suddenly each twig and branch was gilded with light.
Project runway ended. It made me happy.
What is your midweek like?