I woke up smiling.
Not dramatically. Not the kind of waking up that announces itself. Just that particular quality of consciousness arriving with something warm already in it before the day had done anything to earn warmth yet.
I lay in my new room with the east light beginning at the window and listened to the house and thought about the sitting room last night and the fire going to embers and a kiss that was not managed or performed or arranged for anyone.
Real.
Simply and without question real.
I got up.
I took more care than usual getting dressed. Not for any particular reason. Just because the morning felt like it deserved a little more attention than the functional minimum. I wore something that was mine from the wardrobe. Not the arranged things. My own.
I went downstairs.
H
