« Safety scissors only, okay? And glitter stays on the desk, not on the carpet. »
« Okay, Mama. »
She skipped off, rabbit swinging, and I turned back to the window.
Outside, the maple tree was just starting to lose its leaves, and a part of me felt that strange autumn ache I never knew how to name.
My husband had been quiet lately.
Not cold, just quieter.
He stayed up later.
He took phone calls in the garage, the door pulled almost shut behind him.
« Everything okay at work? » I had asked him a few nights before.
« Yeah, just a lot going on, » he had said, not quite looking at me.
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