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Tuesday, April 16, 2013

The Tent

Last night I biked in the enchanted fog of night to my sister's to sleep in my little tent in her backyard. I sat panting on the swing neith the grape arbor, eyeing the tent and its shaky support and the neighbors as they creaked in and out of houses, smoking, barking, calling, silent. The stars were hiding, possibly angry with me for not looking for them in such a while. So I bid them goodnight and the creaking door next house over eerily squeaked farewell as I slid into my shelter and sleep bag. I was too afraid of suffocation to zip closed in, so the night's cold swept around me in turrets, and I slept deep and woke and slept again.
With the morning sun threatening its slow creep I woke and biked my sleepy legs home to gather for work.
I told Sandi, my co-worker, and she surprised me with her enthusiasm, "Leah, I love you! I love how you think and what you do, all those unstuck things! You're an old soul."
And I grabbed the vacuum and ran out in the hall to hide how pleased I was. =)

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