In the space of one breath so much can happen.
My house stills, night noises start. In her room, the child’s eyes flutter to a close after so much resistance. One cat, displeased with the hierarchy in the house, pounces upon another as I stretch my legs and point my toes.
In the other room my husband laughs as he sets his wine glass on the coffee table and I instantly wonder why it’s called a coffee table. We never set coffee on it.
Both cats have flown from the foot of the bed as I glance at the clock marveling at the steady passage of time. The laughing in the living room continues as does my stretching, not just my legs and toes, my whole body now. As I arch my back my shirt pulls up to reveal my belly and my eye is held by the shiny naval ring, the same one that I wore when it was pierced 12 years ago.