Eight and a half hours. I spend an hour copying a prayer into my journal. I’ve never liked rote prayers, but this one isn’t like any liturgy I’ve heard before. Even in the silence of writing it out, my spirit shivers and wakes. She brings Baby Groot to the car and stops to show him the roses on the way and they both take a hearty sniff. Later on, she shows him the toy bin on the front porch. Still later, she shows him her night-night book. I’m weirdly proud of her. I have a minor administrat...
Published on June 21, 2018 17:28