I wrote a novel about napping in an empty room. Rain falling gently on a cold Sunday afternoon. Hot soup & trying to decide what movie to watch next on Netflix. You call and tell me what the weather’s like where you are. It’s about the same. No surprise there. You promise to come watch movies with me on rainy Sundays in the future. I know my heart will take a break from beating before you do. But I say how glad I am you called anyway & keep the radio on softly after you go.