Obvious

“I just want to sit here and be sad.”

I’m back home. I got some writing done. Not as much as I hoped. In my head, I somehow imagined dashing off the whole book in the week I was at the cabin. Foolish, in retrospect.

Now I’m back home with the piles I left that need to be sorted. The kid’s not here. That feels more obvious and harsh now.

When I write about how sad I am that she’s gone, I get…