Work is slow. Life is slow. I went over to Mrs. Scurfield's place yesterday. "Have a nice Christmas?" I asked.
"Yes. You?"
"Yeah. It was great."
Heads nodded. Then silence. Strangely uncomfortable silence. She offered me tea. I began searching for questions to ask.
"Whadda you do instead of gardening in the winter?" I asked.
"Sleep!" she said, laughing. I laughed too. We drank our tea. But I felt restless. Moments stretched long that would usually have passed unnoticed.
I could say it's not a big deal. These moments happen. But I dunno.
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