Today's writing

“Hey,” Matt said.

For a minute that seemed perfectly normal. Then I realized it wasn’t. I hadn’t even seen his car when I pulled down into the driveway, but now that I understood he was here, I realized he had parked in the shadows, where I couldn’t see, where his presence would be a surprise.

“What the hell?” There wasn’t much else that came to mind, not many other words poised to exit my mouth. He scared the piss out of me. Why?

All around us Poway was doing its thing: coyotes howling, washing machines tumbling, swimmers stretching their way from the pool to the hot tub, flexing muscles covered with tanned skin. The air smelled like fading heat and full bank accounts. My neighbor’s homes glowed inside and out.

It was the place I called home. Not forever, but for now.