Eleven AM

After my playlist ended on iTunes this morning, it was quiet for a long time. I didn't restart the music, because I was kind of enjoying the sound of my house just... settling. Breathing.

The thermostat ticks like a clock. It's odd, I can't figure out why it does it, but it's a slow, almost imperceptible tick-tock, coming from the old thermostat with a timer I can't figure out. I guess that's what's doing all the ticking. The timer that can't tell time.

The bells at St. Lawrence church toll. It's eleven. There's something about right this moment that makes me feel empty. Maybe sad, too. The sky is gray, my nose is cold, the tick of the thermostat times my breath, and I'm sitting on my eggplant colored couch listening to the church bells ring out. It's the only sound that means anything right now. Except maybe the clickity clack of the keyboard.

Now there are sirens in the distance. Fire and police, I think. Isn't it weird how they sound different? Or, is that just me?

There's a chill in the air today. I think it's put a chill in me, too.