I drank it anyway.

Steam slid down the window above the sink.

A squirrel was working away at the empty bird feeder and refused to give up.

I went outside in my sweater and filled the feeder from the bag in the garage, and by the time I was back at the counter the squirrel was on it, along with two plump finches.

The high chair stood in the dining room, still painted the color of someone else’s kitchen.

I would repaint it in the spring, once the porch had dried out enough to work on.

I sat on the stool next to the basket with both hands wrapped around my cup.

Four hundred eighty-six thousand dollars.

The deed recorded at four o’clock.

A little boy asleep with his mouth open and one sock missing.

The house was quiet, warm, and completely ours.