breakfast

this morning there was a cat in a cupboard, roosters on the roof, and a moluccan cockatoo across the street. i had fresh blueberry pancakes in the courtyard (twice recommended) and listened to my family weigh in on topics ranging from the caste system to private property rights to a homeless mountain man from whom i once bought a poem and gifted to La Cienega. but all this is beside the point.

the point is that my brother is napping on the sofa and my father is on the porch reading the newspaper. we leave tomorrow, and it has been a pleasure to spend time with them, but sometimes getting closer to the ones we love makes it all the more apparent how far we are apart.