Thursday, January 22, 2009

Thursday, January 22, 2009 naptime experience

Calm, quiet, listening to the heated air blow through the vents in the hall, sun splashed onto my walls in the wild geometric shapes of the blinds or reflections of CDs strewn about. I can see runners outside leisurely jogging down the road toward the trails, snuggled up in their PT-gear sweatsuits or decked out in expensive winter jogging attire, soaking in what is left of the afternoon sun. Kids playing across the street on the old wooden playground equipment. Swinging on swings that I know from experience creak, their mothers huddled together discussing when and where the next big sale will be. Eating homemade meatball soup that is so hot it almost burns the tongue with chunks of toasted, crusty, oatmeal bread dipped into the perimeter of my bowl that soaks up the tomato and beef broth. What seems like millions of tiny fingerprints and smudges line the lower 2/3rd's of the screen door. Autographed by a toddler. Silence except for the tap-tapping of the keys and space bar on the keyboard as Taison...is taking a nap.

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