I’m walking to work, passing Allen Gardens. My internal voice resonates strong:

Look at those trees! They’re all full with leaves now! Funny how I’m just noticing this now. That’s beautiful. Oh, the biggest tree in the park is only just budding now while the younger ones are full-on leafy! I bet they’re all like “Hey grandpa! Wake up after a long awful winter! Wake up!” and he’s all like “In good time you young saplings…”

I’m suddenly hit across the face by a small twig, blown off a tree.

Yeah. That last bit was a bit gay.

———–

I climb into bed while SharkBoy reads his new book. I bury my face into my pillow and lay on my stomach and let my mind wander while waiting for sleep.

I bet we look like an old couple, he and I, like this, in bed. I bet we look like some 1950s sitcom but with the beds pushed together. I really hope our relationship doesn’t go stale. I wonder if I do enough to keep things happy, things fresh?

Lazily, SharkBoy’s hand reaches across to my exposed back and he starts to scratch absent-mindedly. It’s heaven at the end of the day.

What ever worries I was just entertaining have run from me like dollar store mascara off a drag queen in a car wash.

———–