Roget's is spread-eagle at 900.24. A one-hundred-percent recycled notebook pregnant with business cards, sticky notes, illegible flashes of brilliance, and words that rhyme with "might" straddles a teacher's note and a Free People catalog. A wine glass full of fingerprints glows half empty. So does my chest.
I hear the shower running, the dog sleeping, and the night creeping in. I look out the window and see what's inside: a jawline in the glow of a blank screen. I blink like a cursor, uncross my legs, and fill my lungs with quiet. My fingers settle in: ASDF JKL;