She sat at the kitchen table…naked.

I quietly poured my coffee so as to not disturb the moment. The morning sun merrily beamed through the open window casting a warm Sunday glow over last night’s supper dishes that were still on the counter by the toaster. Old cold stew needs more than bright sunlight to not be disgusting.

I set my coffee on the table in front of her then walked down the hallway to fetch the morning paper. I felt like a dog. On the way I glanced at the odd grey stain that had appeared some time ago on the floral fuchsia wallpaper beside the light switch. Today it looks like Abraham Lincoln. Last weekend it looked like George Washington. I wonder why stains don’t look like Canadian Prime Ministers? At first I thought the Washington stain was a Sir John A. MacDonald stain but a friend of mine who has an extensive Canadian stamp collection said it wasn’t MacDonald, it was Washington. They look very much alike as stains, I thought.

I opened the front door and took the paper out of the mailbox. The street was deserted and quiet except for an invisible bird chittering in the cherry tree next door.

I took a deep breath of Sunday air and closed the door. Sunday air is different than the other days’ airs. It feels newer, but then it is the first day of the week. Tucking the newspaper under my arm I turned to begin my trip back to the kitchen, habitually glancing at the stain. Now it looked like a rabbit…or Lincoln in a bunny suit. Either way it had changed quickly.

I walked back to the kitchen table and unfolded the paper.

This was a wonderful moment. The sun was warm, the coffee smelled good, and there was no bad news on the front page.

She sat across from me…naked.

Life is good.

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