This is what sits on the table beside the bed: a cup of black coffee, some valentines cards, the phone, the answering machine, and two stacks of books.
At the top making little waves is a book that arrived the other day — Lifelong Kindergarten.
Someone knows me well. I thought perhaps my mother, but she claims to have sent a book to my brother and not me. So I don’t know who sent it.
Some nights I reach up, risking a late-night Jenga-fication of the bedroom, and I pull that little book down and read a little more. And more sediment settles on Penrose and Homer.