Sunday · Week of April 20, 202617

Sunday

Mostly quiet. The kind of week we won’t remember in a year unless we keep it.

from Lucas·to Mom & Dad
A child at the window in afternoon light
She sat there for almost an hour. Watching the street, watching the birds.
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Reading on the couch, knees tucked up
Third reread of the same book this month.
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A small chef in the kitchen, watching dinner happen
Supervising. Very seriously.
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A small hand resting in a larger one
Four years old and still reaches for it. Long may that last.
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Running across the grass, full speed
First real warm day. She didn’t stop running once.
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A small face, considering
Thinking very hard about something. We never did find out what.
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Three pairs of shoes by the door, smallest in the middle
All three pairs lined up for once.
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Breakfast at the kitchen table, light through the window
Cheerios, somehow, taking the full hour.
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Backyard exploration with a small fistful of treasure
Found a pinecone. Declared it a treasure.
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Curled up small on the rug
Fell asleep mid-sentence.
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Bath time, all elbows and seriousness
Full concentration.
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Late afternoon light through the back door
The kind of light that’s worth putting the phone down for. Mostly.
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Sunday · Issue № 17 · Week of April 20, 2026

A weekly Sunday, kept — between the people who love them.