Seven o’clock at the kitchen window
The cutting in the bottle has grown three roots. The page for the day gets written beside it, in pencil, before seven fifteen.
How it goes
- Write the date and one line about the light.
- List three things the day must hold, and no more.
- Close the book before the list turns into a plan.
The window faces east through a grid of small panes, so the light arrives in squares. On bright days they cross the page while the list is being written.
Three things is the limit. A fourth usually means one of the first three was not honest.