The house is silent.
Well, not silent. There’s a fan going, and the overhead lights in the kitchen are humming. The gas logs are hissing, and occasionally a floorboard creaks. But for the most part, the house is silent.
I am alone with my thoughts in a house full of love.
The eye in the storm. I’ll get back to school and have another mountain to level and a spoon to do it with. But right now, there is calm and quiet. My sense of urgency is numbed. For the time being.
And I am grateful.