today is ’s birthday. she is six, or seven now; i always lose count with the small ones. and because and i forgot, her mother passed the message (with the gravity only a child can summon) along: we now owe her one hundred swimming trips.

serves us right. we had lunch outside, , and i. fried tofu. crispy at the edges nearly molten at the centre. and cold beer under a clear sky. the first days of summer. the heat is here but still polite. looked tired. and i have been drinking too much beer lately. it just sort of happens. the beer. one becomes two, and by the time you register it the afternoon has softened at the edges and you’re not sure if that’s the alcohol or just the light.

the moon is full. again. its cool light falls through the window, and somewhere in that light i remember – the altar. the incense. unlit. again.

welp, what have i yet to forget?

one hundred swimming trips with .