Friday.

october 16.
7.45 am.

Sunlight streaming through, bagels and coffee and she’s on the floor, obsessively protecting her injury from last evening:

a scrape on her knee, earned from a trip on the concrete overlooking "the Blowhole." we are in Brendan's pad, in Kailua, a medium walk from the warm ocean whose breeze and salt I feel even now.

Costco trip and pizza last night. Oh, and a solo field trip with Aunty Leanna, to work. Where she did not say "hi."

To anyone.

Her hair is Tina Turner and her disposition is giddy surprise kisser.