Monday evening still life:
My aunt April gave me these wonderful sock puppet gloves with button eyes and blue noses. Occasionally they'll get separated, as they are now, one on the hassock, one on the sofa, its button eyes staring up at me, imploring.
A road map of the U.S. pinned to the wall with two different routes highlighted, one in orange, one in pink.
Blue and white lights curled around our standing light, making the corner glow.
A solitary orchid perched by the window. There's only one flower left.
The gift Ryan's grandmother gave us for Christmas: a small candle holder with four cookie cutter horses suspended above it, ready, as always, to spin once the wicks are lit.
The sound of light rail humming down the street: an urban murmur.
A paper chanukiah still taped to wall, three months later.
And, barely visible from my seat on the couch: Ryan pulling hot macaroni and cheese out of the oven.