Bus Stop
Every morning, I wake up, get ready for the day, and make sure my cats are properly spoiled before departing my condo. It took me over a decade to settle into this morning routine. It’s ordinary, warm and comfortable, like mashed potatoes for the soul. Nothing fancy or exciting, but stable. It’s a lungful of fresh air after what felt like an eternity of grieving and wallowing amongst a bedrock of grief and endless sobbing. After I thought I lost everything. Marjorie.
