You can say the door is open wide
I slept almost ten hours. I accompanied my godchild to a park and watched them hang upside down off a bar in three different ways. I had the pleasure of pitching a drawer from a piece of dead furniture over the ledge at the transfer station, which was clangily cathartic. I had my first ever gelati from Rita's with vanilla frozen custard and blood orange water ice. We cooked dinner on the grill out on the deck, the ne plus ultra of American summer rituals. My godchild took a picture of me standing on their bed and reading a picture book of Chelm tales, which I was doing because their bookshelf is at the top of their closet. I believe I am having a vacation. They happen so rarely, I never recognize them until they are under way.


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People were throwing all sorts of stuff over. I could see the therapeutic value.
And I like your godchild's green green walls.
Their own inhabitable chroma key!