Half-empty mugs and the quiet after claims

Lately I catch myself staring at the coffee rings on the kitchen counter like they're little tide marks, and I think my years of closing files have finally softened into something less surefooted. It's not grief exactly, more like the patience you learn when you stop trying to tally everything. Anyway, my dog just rested her chin on my knee, which cancels out most of the melancholy.