Waiting.

Last last few weeks I have spent two hours in a freezing cold lunch room as my daughter practices for an upcoming band concert. Sometimes I dread it. I know that these late nights mean less than one hands worth of sleep.

Tonight the temperature is dropping bringing in cold rain. As I stand under an overhang feeling the cold, damp air I am transported back to another life. Funny how it was only four years but it takes up so much space in my head.

I told someone once that those four years are like dog years so really it was more like twenty eight years long.

I recall many days living soaking wet and cold. Soaking wet and hot. Soaking wet on top of being soaking wet.

It was miserable. Sometimes I miss it.

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