Twenty Eight

They are exhausted after a long day in the vines. This is always the hardest time of the year. Deciding when to start the harvest.

Lying in bed, they talk about all of the things they need to do tomorrow. She lists every detail out loud. He listens while rubbing her swollen feet. Soon her eyelids fall and she moves in closer to him. He watches her fall asleep, thinking about her dreams of making the best wine. He has a good feeling about this year. She will be happy.

Twenty Seven

She stands there watching him make her coffee. They talk about how the day could go either way, iced or hot. She decides hot.

Then she buys a card for her friend who just had a baby. It is handmade with cotton paper.

She takes her coffee and card outside and sits alone. The ocean breeze chills her skin and the coffee warms her sore throat. She watches cars go by, peeking at the faces of their drivers. She remembers how good it feels to be still and clings to these real minutes.