Something George says lands sideways early on, sharper than he meant it. By afternoon the same words read warm, and the morning's sharpness turns out to have been yours all along.
When work crosses your mind today, the first thing that surfaces is a person you work alongside, and the task it's attached to comes in second.
The house holds two temperatures today. The front rooms stay busy and a little restless through midday; a back one you rarely sit in goes genuinely quiet by late afternoon, and that's where you'll end up.
The lower back carries the day. A dull heaviness sits low in the spine and around the kidneys, easy to ignore until the evening goes still, and then it's the loudest thing in the body.