Thursday, 18 April 2013

The kitchen bench.

That's pretty much where I spend my days.

The kitchen bench.

I stand at my kitchen bench pouring glasses of water, signing school forms, chopping carrots and peeling potatoes, doing homework, praising artwork, gluing limbs on action figures, reading the local paper, making smoothies, wiping tears, sticking on plasters, texting friends, serving up dinner, drinking tea, drinking wine.

Today I spent it crying. I wasn't standing at the kitchen bench. The kitchen bench was propping me up.

I'll run tomorrow. And today will be yesterday.