There are no comfortable positions in the bed they used to share.
He flips at regular intervals, both the hamburger and the spatula.
With the morning slouching toward him, he stares dimly at the spot on the wall where he knows the calendar hangs.
There is not enough light in the sky yet to see more than shadows.
When the shadows evaporate, when the sun rises, it will be two years to the day since she died.
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