In Austin

I'm OK sleeping on the fold-out Ikea sofa-bed in the living room of this apartment in Austin. But there was a dead roach on the floor and so I climbed into my son's bed. It's a queen size bed and Murphy lay in the middle, and my son and I on either end; I was pressed against the wall in a narrow length of space because Murphy had his back toward me and was pushing on me, as he stretched and stretched and stretched comfortably. I didn't want to wake up either of them so I lay still and imagined I was sleeping in an enormous bed and woke up feeling extremely refreshed, as if I had indeed slept in great comfort. And perhaps that is what saw us through the sordidness of our childhood. our ability to imagine a world of beauty -- and life was beautiful.

Murphy and I went for a very early morning walk and the streets were deserted, not a sound from any house, not a car or human or animal stirring, as if the neighborhood were under a spell.

I do want to get back to Houston by Tuesday evening so I don't miss my zumba. Ever in the company of males (husband or my sons) and because I'm highly reflective, I tend to act like a male myself and my strides are like those of a man. In zumba, I learn to move seductively and feel the magic of being woman.