Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even kinda true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Monday, June 15, 2020
We lie in the sun on the slope of the grassy hill, staring up at the leaves. A black and yellow Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly floats lazily by, while a cloud passes behind a radio tower in front of a deep blue sky.
A dog wanders to the end of its leash and, seeing us, begins making eyes. "Watch your treats," his owner says, like she's seen this sort of thing before.