When I got to the deck this afternoon, in a stolen hour between work and visiting my favorite curmudgeon, the sun had tucked itself behind a flimsy cloud.  Its rays pour down on me full force now.  I feel a bit sleepy, warm and indolent.  A long week trudges to a close.  The days have challenged me, sometimes clubbing me with their iron fists, sometimes touching me with the rising memory of other summer sunshine.

Out in the summer sun, I stop to wave at a neighbor and bid him good day, teasing him a bit about his banker’s hours.  On the other side of the street, I hear a couple who has lived here as long as I have calling to each other, from porch to car.  The edges of our sewn flag raise in the breeze.  I lift my face to the sun’s caress.  It’s Friday in Brookside.  What bothers me might lurk just out of sight, but for now, I can ignore it and let the heat woo me to a gentle drowsiness.