Seventeen

Carved out a bubble of alone in a quiet corner of the house. Washing machine and a whir of air. Aware of the clicks of fingers on keys.

They do that on purpose, ¬†you know? So you know you’re doing something.

Tomorrow is a work day. Getting gear together for animation for a student, and design gear for me. Really mostly hanging out while Aidan attends college open house. Wrapping my head around that. Didn’t think it’d be as big a deal as it is proving to be. Right in the feels. Percolating.

I get that I am aging. That time is passing.

But my boys are an external measure in inches and the timbre of their voices. Even the dog is getting pokey and there is gray around his muzzle.

Autumn. It feels like Autumn.

And though the leaves are on the trees

I feel the breeze

of Autumn

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