We returned from the grocery store at 23:00 with breakfast muffins, sourdough pretzels, and chocolate. There is a frog living in the grass, I thought, and sat with qualm. I felt my feet lifting from the floor of the vehicle just as I do when dancing and avoiding frogs in the grass. A spry caper faintly touching the ground.
    "He looks like my frog Rupert," said Lake.
I was silent.
    "Do you know who I'm talking about?"
    "Your frog from the story,"
    "No, my pet frog. I've had a lot of frogs in my lifetime and they've all been named Rupert."


The prior morning I laid my head on Tim's chest and listened to a calm sleep. The alarm in his mobile phone had just gone off - he silenced it. I waited to say good morning and traced the contours of his arm like a path. Watson also wanted to follow; he walked up to us from the foot of the bed, which is where he chooses to sleep only when Tim is here.

Thunder rolls over our French mansard roof.

He rested his head on Tim’s neck and woke him up. Tim put his arms around me, inclined his head toward Watson, and said, “My favourites.” Slow kiss on my forehead. I feel safe regarding our being together for the entirety of our long lives. I want only him. I'm happy with his mathematics and sensitivity.

Lake and I went to see Shrek 3 at the drive-in a few days ago.