Afternoon Arrival


I walk in the basement.

            Silence.

I shut the door softly.

            Stillness.

I take off my too-loud boots.

            Soundless.

I slip up the stairs to the kitchen. 

            Snoring.

I open my computer.

           Snoring.

           Snoring.

I begin to slice.




Firsts and Seconds

Why is the second of something less fulfilling than the first? "How many potatoes do you want?" I asked my husband. &...