For three days now….
I lie in the guest room, watching Netflix on my laptop.
My great-nephew lies in the den, playing computer games, texting with friends.
My sister lies in her bedroom, watching a Downton Abbey marathon.
Three days since everyone else went home from the holiday.
Time enough, surely, to have recuperated, and resumed our pleasure in each other’s company.
(excluding encounters in the kitchen, odd nods in the hall)
Time enough, surely, to think of a story to share?
After all, we only get to be together at Christmas.
Are we together?
This is not a protest, btw.
I love my solitude; so do they.
We are smart, capable, and enjoy our own company, and devices.
What’s wrong with that?
I am thinking about it.