Today was the day I was supposed to see my students again.
They are currently going through their first day of school. The new teacher is there at my old desk. He is using the pens I left behind.
I got up at the time I was supposed to get up for work.
Alex and I headed down the old street to go to the school.
Instead of turning right, we turned left.
We drove through McDonald's. We went to the lake. We watched the mist rise from the water. We saw the sun hit the leaves of our tree where we fell in love. We talked about the future.
I took him to work, and I passed all the people going to the offices downtown. I came home. I sat out in the new patio furniture. I faced the courtyard. And I wrote.
Life is not always going to be like this. I know that. I go back to work next year. But today, look at that grass and how green it is. Look at the colors of those leaves. Try to make out the mist rising from the perfect early morning reflection of that hill. Think of what the rest of this day could bring.
What is this?
Dawson is an editor and writer and MFA student at Stonecoast. She writes stuff.