“I think I’m just pushing this shit around,” I said aloud, watching the piles of dust and dried grass scoot around under my broom. I returned the broom to its corner, bristles down; the cat who chewed and ate bristles had died.

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It’s the slow changes that are the hardest to notice. The slow changes that build until one day they have become a sudden change, like the leaves turning in autumn, or babies growing, or a lake receding. Out of nowhere, something that once was has become something new, and you can’t believe you didn’t notice it. It happened right in front of your eyes.

 

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