Clutching the sheets and comforter, the sun, a distant light and also hidden behind its covers, I hold out for a few more minutes as the alarm goes off.
At the easel, brush loaded with orange and pressed against the canvas, a thought comes to mind: "I've got to pick up the clothes from the cleaners before they close!" And though I'm in the middle of important work, another, more pressing task interrupts it.
Listening to my adult daughter as she stomps across the floor above me, heels on as she prepares to jet off to home, I wish 21 years hadn't gone by so fast!
And we are always chasing after, too far behind, TIME!
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