Thursday, July 18, 2013

It's not all murders at dawn, despite what you've heard about shootings in Rodger's Forge

5.17: Mummy gets up to practice yoga alone in a quiet house.
5.18: Winton gets up and demands to watch Mummy practice yoga.

Mummy: [sun salutations]
Winton: "Mummy, Look!  Pepita's on your mat!  Look, she's eating the plant!  Look!  Pepita is breaking the blinds!  Mummy?  Are you finished yet?  How many more minutes?  Mummy.  I'm hungry [coda]"

 Clara: [sneaking into living room] "Boo!"
Mummy: "Gah!"

Husband wakes.  Mummy leaves on dogwalk, leaving children to hector Husband about the possibilities of watching Horseland on TV.

Quiet.  No traffic.  No people.
Sun: Fluorescent pink.

Across the street: two men, apparently making a direct approach on me.

Mummy's internal monologue: "Oh, crap!  This is the morning on which I finally get mugged!"

Men approach, say "good morning!" cheerfully, drunkenly and then pay me no mind in order to continue their loud, slurred conversation . . . which is about how fun it is to feed the seagulls at the inner harbor.

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