After counting the apples, there were five of them, just enough until Monday if I only eat one a day, I took the recycling out, and walked over to look at the ocean. The sun's about to rise.
Overhead, a single gull passed north to south in a quiet, smooth line. While white-cap waves thundered, swallowing the beach in fits of lingering bites.
I knew it would be a good day by the arrangement of the clouds, in the way that the cirrus fanned out, glowing warm and pink.
I was home.