Day 362 of 2025
“Fragments of Slow Summer Light”
OVERHEARD AT TABLE FOUR, 6:47 PM
"—no but the thing about clouds is they're already
broken, that's their whole situation, they were never
whole to begin with—"
"Pass the salt."
"—and the steam off the pot does the same thing,
it just goes up and becomes them, becomes
part of the broken—"
"This needs more salt."
"—so when you wash the bowl after, and your hands
are wet, and you look out the window and the sky
is doing that thing where it can't decide if it's
evening or still afternoon—"
"It's evening."
"—right but that's what I mean, the decision
already happened, we just weren't paying attention
to the exact moment it—"
"Dry or air dry?"
"Air dry. Let them be."
[long silence]
"Okay yeah. Let them be."