morning coffee // The Hole at the Bottom of my Lunch Box

How much time passes at the bottom of a lunch box? Minutes? Hours? None at all?

morning coffee // The Window

It’s raining outside, I think. I can’t tell.

Morning coffee, 8.22.17

The oak leaf I pinned to my cubicle wall has begun to root–without soil, water, or sunlight. 

Morning coffee // The Door

I did it. I touched the door. Now, I regret everything. 

Morning coffee, 8.10.17

There’s something on my desk, and I didn’t put it there.

Morning coffee, 8.9.17

They’re onto me.

Morning coffee, 8.1.17.

I’m finally working in a position that encourages me to think creatively, so it behooves me to take fifteen minutes every morning warm up my brain.