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I can hear the rain outside and I see the street lights reflected on the wet pavement. Will it rain all day? I don’t know. It is a cold rain, the bane of the South, never cold enough to snow, but cold enough to be miserable.
The coffee is ready, I just ate a navel orange. It was a small orange, as navels go, from California. There was a nice sweet and clean taste. Time now to pour a cup of coffee.
I start another day alone. My wife will sleep another 3 or 4 hours. Her lunch is packed. She will go to work for eight hours.
Another day. Alone. So it is off to AA and the Y in the alphabet of places that fill my life.
I admire of all you who physically love your lovers. I can remember the soft feel of my beloved’s skin, her body ready to yield. And yet she was not vocal about her passion, lest the neighbors hear. As if that mattered.
