Tuesday, July 9, 2013

The Heat from the Keys Melts into My Hands

We are in Palm Springs on vacation.

Boy, is it hot.

I am using this return to a familiar hotel to duck out of the vacation for a bit. Instead, I have sought refuge in the dark, slightly cooler lobby. I perch in a red velvet chair, surrounded by mirrors and bits of glittering crystal, and tap out a bit of income while the family swims in the sun.

The trip, while warm, has been a success. A birthday celebrated. A summer taken mid-swing.

And I, I return to some discipline and respect for my gift of words.

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