The Perfect Day
Thursday, November 13, 2008
This would be enough for me: A place to sit. Proximity to birds. Unsullied water. Reading weather. I'd carry a picnic of winesap apples, cheddar cheese, artisan bread, an almond chocolate bar (which I would eat in the smallest possible increments over the course of an entire day). People would stop by, every now and then, and tell me their stories. I'd be thinking my own thoughts the rest of the day. The sun would crawl across the sky; the sun would change the day's colors.
At night I'd travel back inside, into a necessarily cozy house. A fire crackling in the fireplace. A blanket tossed across the couch.