“there are no ideal conditions.” 60 degree blue sky. apple cider donuts. open windows. photographs. 48 ecstatic and blurry hours. medium amounts of trying. wisteria. cat fort construction, but no residents. wearing the shit out of the shoes i found on the side of the street in Park Slope. a scoop of ginger and a scoop of peach. a waitress at the diner telling us the location of previously unknown cream puffs. an empty building with low wooden beams. “we are all going to be better than fine.” paper birds. bittersweet (miranda beverly-whittmore). all of the bravo television available. the perfect loaf of bread, made the day before passover. piles of revisions and nervous energy. the air smells like syrup, but really it’s rain.