This summer, I’m knocking the shed down. I’m shedding it. I thought about paying someone to come and do it, but I want to do it myself.

I’m not sure what’s in there, amongst the shadows and the cold dark matter, but it’s all going to go.

Afterwards, I’m going to sweep the yard and make it pretty. It will be almost like another room. I’m going to put in seats and string fairy lights around the branches of the cherry tree.

Then I’ll sit there with the cat. And write.