Chapter 10. Cont. One A Day

Daytime again.

The familiar drumming of fingers danced across my bedroom door to signal that it was time to wake up and get ready.

I stretched.

I sat up and studied the clothes on the hangers in the closet, hoping to pick something before moving from the bed.

I could smell Mom’s coffee peeking in from the kitchen.

I’d finished another letter to TJ.

One a day.

It sat atop my desk with a stamp on it, propped against the palm tree lamp as though it were magnificent art on display.

On our way out the door, Dad tied his boots.

I remembered when I was four and used to help him tie his police boots before work.

I didn’t exactly know how to tie a bow.

I would tie a knot and then stick the laces through the backside of the shoelace in order to mimic little rabbit ears.

I headed out after he did.

He headed out to work.

I stopped by the mailbox on the way to the bus stop.

Off we went to another day.