The Perfect Number

Many mornings I conduct science experiments to find the perfect number of mugs of coffee. That is, the number of mugs I can drink before my stomach starts to hurt.

If I make one batch of java in my wonderful little French press, I’m only going to get two mugs of coffee that day. No pain. But what if I drink more? Is three the pain threshold? Or is it four? Bring me another refill, waitress, I’m doing research for science.

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Ten

Marion glanced at her phone. She was ten minutes early. She sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Ten minutes – she could do that.

Ten ladies dancing, on this day ten years ago, ten times ten. Her mind wandered. She glanced at her phone again. Eight minutes. Would they take her back on time, or would she have to wait longer? Now, now was what she wanted. No more waiting, no more sitting. . . .

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Magic

“It looks like magic, but it’s simply a matter of practice. You put in your 10,000 hours, you can do magic.”

I was there to learn to code. In 3 days. Why was the instructor talking about 10,000 hours?

I raised my hand. “I just need a job,” I said. “I don’t need magic.”

The instructor smiled. She  . . .

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Paint

There was paint everywhere. Paint on my shirt, my fingers, on the dish drainer in the sink where I’d washed the brush. But the job was done and I was thrilled I’d finished it. I stood back and looked at my handwork. I was going to have the best sign at the march, that was obvious. Wait! I misspelled a word!

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Sunny

She watched the sun move north. Each sunny morning the windows facing east told her the season, with the beams of light entering her kitchen from new directions. When June 21 approached she went outside with a can of spray paint and marked a line from the tree hiding the sun up to her window. A sun arrow. Now she had to wait for fall to finish her painted sun map.

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Dance

Ah, a slow dance. She pulled Alice close. This was her chance. They were on their first date. She’d wanted to kiss Alice all night long. Now. Now was her chance. She pushed her nose into Alice’s hair. Alice didn’t resist. She wrapped her arm around Alice neck. Alice didn’t resist. Okay. Now. Do it now. Move!

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Wait

Wait, it’s only Thursday? No, it must be Friday by now. I need to sleep late tomorrow. I need to play with my dog in the park. I need to invite my pals over for dinner and a couple more episodes of “Jessica Jones.” I cannot wait for more days, it must be Friday now, today. Immediately.

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Get Outta Town

She sent me an email. She wanted to go to a uke festival on a weekend in May. It wasn’t far away, but it was a way to get outta town. That sounded great. I mean, we don’t really need to travel to a uke fest, we have one of our own. But this one was SOMEWHERE ELSE.

I sent back an answer, “Let’s do it!”

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Redhead

I sat down in the restaurant with my redheaded friend. Across from us was a tot in a highchair with red hair of the same pale hue. And down two tables was a curly headed girl with red hair of the same hue. The waitress (who wasn’t a redhead last week) had bright red hair. The woman busing tables had red streaks in her dark brown hair. My gray hair just didn’t belong.

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Pancakes

Before Eden woke up, Jen whipped up pancakes from scratch. She put berries and slivered almonds on top and warmed up real maple syrup. When it was ready, she carried a cup of aromatic hot coffee into the bedroom. The coffee did its magic and Eden stirred.

“I made breakfast,” Jen said. “Pancakes.”

“Oh,” Eden yawned. “I can’t handle gluten. But you’re really sweet.”

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