Morning, in Colorado, if I’m not teaching or trying to make a school lunch my offspring will actually eat, involves a second cup of Double Bergamot Earl Grey tea and a quick skim of The Guardian, online, with the memory of pretending to read it, a broadsheet, upside down in bed, with my dad. The paper, not me. I was two.
Thus, a few days ago, I paused, mid-sip, to read this: “Now he’s ditching the dung and the glitter, and going some place darker.” And see this:

Spent some time in a clinic today, the waiting turning into an interesting duration (every time I encounter the word duration I think of Kenneth Koch staring off into space during an interview saying, “everything lasts a certain period of time….that’s very odd”)
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