Snow on the ground. In our beloved city 10 miles south they’re bracing for the ICE storm.

Inside, in the warm, I’m cleaning up the junker nightstand I found at Goodwill with fallen-off knobs. The drawer slides out willingly, lets me poke around in the back for dust. The shelf, too, in the compartment below, submitting to my tugs, upends and departs its grubby spot with barely a screek.

The thought that comes is, you could put a baby in there.

It’s not something I’ve ever ever contemplated, gazing into a cupboard.

Sign of the times.

 


 

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