A flurry of fingers and cupped lettuce leaves

I love driving home alone at night. I race west across the lake, Seattle blinking silently before me, its streets wide and burnished-looking under the lights. I know my way without thinking, and it feels so solid here on my own, coming home to myself. A noteworthy day all around. My belly hurts from laughing too much.The rains have returned, and this evening Keaton quite literally blew off the