Happy Friday, all. Today was gorgeous here: the sky the perfect shade of blue with drop-biscuit clouds - flat and dark on the bottoms and fluffy on top. Running errands was a nice respite from the brain-snarling Fix You which is now 73,000 words and stressing me to no end. Expect more side-stories and poetry because they are helping me stay sane and because I'm too attached to these stupid Walkers for my own good.
Bit by bit, the cottage was
transforming into a place that belonged to Tam and Jo. Their furniture was
hand-me-down, but Jo was acquiring other things: pots and pans from the rack
above the stove she didn’t know how to use, picture frames and knick-knacks.
Every day it looked cleaner, brighter, newer. At the table situated between the
small kitchen and living area, Jo, Willa and Tyler made a sweet, pretty picture
in the new morning sunlight, coffee and Pop-Tarts steaming.
Jo
looked up in silent inquiry as Jess pulled out the chair beside Tyler and sat.
“Men,”
she explained, sucking at the burn on her hand.
“Ah,
yes,” Jo said. “Men. What are ours planning?”
“Yours
and the other one,” Jess corrected with a frown. “There is no ours.”
Jo
smiled.
“And
they’re planning something stupid.”
--Fix You
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