A moment

I am standing on a rolled up carpet wrapped in a towel leaning against the glass as I eat a piece of hot chocolate brownie. Pool water is dripping on the floor. It’s the perfect mix of moist and chewy.
Drip. Drip.Drip.
Outside the day is ending. The birds are screeching. Car doors closing. The thwack of a cricket ball on metal. I close my eyes.

A moment to store, to pack away for the archives; for when I am old and brittle and will open the cabinets and search for these moments with tender fingers.

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