Right now, this second, I miss the Winnipeg Zoo. I miss my leg warmers from 1981. I miss my mom's chocolate-chip zucchini bread and I miss my Right Coast.
Right now I'm craving chocolate and bourbon and ice skating and James Bond movies.
Right now I'd like to fall asleep for two or three hours and try again later.
Right now I'd like to finish the book I'm reading.
Right now I could use a hug.
Right now I'm cooking dinner. Baby potatoes, green beans, baked chicken and rolls. Milk and water to drink, cookies and tea for dessert.
Right now I have a very sore left hand, same issue as before, staring down surgery, fun fun.
Right now I realized I forgot to wear my hearing aids again today.
Right now Ben is at an evening meeting. He gave me his 60-day medal the day we left.
Right now I just set the table with the silver service and wondered why everyone isn't helping.
Right now the sun has finally come out and the wind has died down.
Right now Cole is dead.
Right now the dog is asleep and so are both cats, Duncan and Schuyler too. I only know this because they haven't answered the group text chat AKA dinner call. Not the pets, the boys. The pets don't have cellphones.
Right now Lochlan is upstairs shaving off his beard in a hurry before supper. He's the only man I've ever met who looks worse with a beard instead of better.
Right now Jacob waits.
Right now it feels like fall.
Right now the tide is coming in and a silver envelope sits on the table in the foyer. Again.
