Benecio
I was sittin' on the couch out by the pool.
The grass around the house looked frozen over. Not snow, just that thin white crust that came when Texas decided it wanted to pretend it was winter for a week. The air smelled sweet. Cold and crisp, like pine and dirt and the faint smell of hay from the barn down the hill.
Somewhere off in the distance, a cow mooed.
That made me smile.
The sun was there, but it was weak. The kind of December sun that didn't warm you, just watched you. I had on a hoodie and a jacket over it, thick sweatpants, and my favorite boot slippers. The ones with the little fur inside that Bunky said made me look like a yeti.
Leavin' Miami to come back to Bloom gave me some peace. Bloom was quiet. Forty minutes outside Houston, but it felt like a whole other world. Green for miles. Wildflowers everywhere in the spring, which was why we called it that. Right now though, in late December, everything was brown and sleepy and waiting for Christmas.
