15 Minutes
It is 7:45 and I should be in bed by 8. This day (now evening) has narrowed. Time that stretched into tomorrow is pointed now toward work, and to that early rise. So I type with an eye to the clock.
There are hints of Spring, in the light and in the air. A feel of re-blooming. A cleansing of the seasonal palate: snow for something greener. For me: a piece of dark chocolate for a glass of Merlot. A wine so red, it is very nearly night.
Ah, 8 PM.