Pleasures

fingerpaints

Feeling the cold squish of paint through your fingers; the tight caking on your rainbow-splattered arms; the laugh bursting from your belly.

Finger painting is freedom, is joy, is pleasure. Grateful you could remind me.

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Noon

HawaiiIsMyHappyPlace

“Hawaii is my happy place,” I said to no one, ever, at any time. The morning was too bright, too hot, and too lonely.

But the light’s beginning to change. Happiness, like a cockroach, has a way of creeping up on you.