Just life, again

I have stopped cataloguing touch. In May, driving away from a house showing, I mentally revisited a real estate agent rubbing my shoulder; I tallied it like I was adding to a collection. I had been telling him about my late cat, and corrected myself with “You’re a real estate agent, not a therapist.” AndContinue reading “Just life, again”

I can do better

Looking at real estate online. Thinking about moving, thinking about selling. Wondering if I can afford it. Wondering where to go. And then I’m at the kitchen counter chopping an apple over the slab of granite I sourced and haggled over and helped wrestle into the back of my ex’s pick-up. It sat in theContinue reading “I can do better”