The power was out. There was nothing we could do but wait. I wrote in my notebook. I comforted the dogs when they whined.
The cats didn't care. They had their sunlight.
It was quiet. We settled into the dark, the dogs and I. Maybe I needed the pause to be reminded how important writing and comforting are to my well-being. Subtly, so slowly I almost missed the transition, I shifted from waiting for the power to come back on to just being.
ONE YEAR AGO
THE KURTENBACH SERIES, PART 1 - MARCEL
TWO YEARS AGO