Something tells me

Monday 12:42 a.m.
A boy walks in front of my car at the stop light. Draped over his arm is a hairy, shiny-chested, gorilla costume. The boy notices me noticing, and he smiles.

Tuesday 3 a.m.
Adam and I spend our second night nestled in the single bed, on account of the houseguests. I'm thankful that we fit so well, and sleep so comfortably, in such a narrow spot.

Tuesday 12:14 p.m.
I step into the shower, struggling to keep stress at bay. “Something good is going to happen,” says a voice inside my head. I step out of the shower, wrap myself in a towel. “Something good is going to happen,” the voice insists. The corner of my lips turn up, in spite of myself, and the voice surges forward like a train.

“Somethinggoodisgoingtohappen… Somethinggoodisgoingtohappen... SOMETHINGGOODISGOINGTOHAPPEN!”

Well, okay, I think. I’m ready.