Ren stood. “More coffee?” he said. “No, I’m good. Thanks. Catch you on the flip.” She handed him her cup, and tripped off the porch as lightly as she’d come. And Ren almost reluctantly started his day. The part where he didn’t just sit and listen to the wind rushing in the pines and think again how sometimes it sounded like surf, how the ticking of the aspen leaves in the same wind was prettier than chimes.
