THE THINGS WE CARRY
The alarm wakes me at 5:00. Always 5:00. The numbers are red on black and they do not care about me. I turn them off. The kitchen is cold. I put water in the pot. I put oatmeal in the water. I wait. I put coffee in the machine. The machine makes noise. It is a good noise. It does not ask me anything. Ten years since Martha died. I do not count it anymore. Counting is for people who think time...
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