Sunday Morning

After we were out late last night (unusual) and slept in late (also unusual), my wife sits outside in the sun and in her garden drinking coffee and talking with a friend. The cat, who may not go outside (and the last time he did, left paw prints on the outside of the door as he hopelessly tried to open it and get back inside), sits as close to the door as he can, in the sun, near the garden, listening to her voice, sensing our routine has returned to the usual. And he sleeps.

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