At Cloud Nine this morning, unbrewed water poured and dripped from the coffee maker. A large black plastic bin had been placed under the counter to catch the waterfall. The Midnight in Macao coffee was out. The dollar seventy-five muffins were shrunken. However, Simon is better. I walked home from the cafe. A jagged branch lay on the paving. A young bunny scampered among the screening trees. Simon was in the vicinity. He came home with me. Wizzy, Mojo, Simon and I sat in the living room. together we sketched the plan for the day.
From the enormous cushy sofa, the window framed a view of three evergreens and a heron in motion, flying south-south-west. The time on the cellular telephone read 8:07. Today dawned on the cool and marginally gloomy side. The grocery now carries a cereal called Erewhon. The white Duro 4 bag from the cafe bears the stamp JAN 20 12 on the bottom. I thought I might look at the calendar or my notebook to see what transpired that day, but I don’t have to. I already know. I went to work. I went to see my Mom. It was the last time we were together and she was alive. We cried.