Today was a special “treat” day. I carefully unwrapped the last Hershey’s kiss and slid it into the hollow of my cheek, letting body heat melt it without chewing. Then I moved on to my meager entertainment supplies. I tapped my fingers against a scratched CD case, before deciding on the battered copy of Heinlein’s Farmhand’s Freehold instead.

According to my calender it was Sunday, a day of rest. I’d been looking forward to Sundays more and more these days. My calender also said it was December 23 but it was pretty warm for Winter. I shrugged to myself. Dates were arbitrary and always had been.

On the way out, I passed the untouched bedding I’d left out for Kara. I was disappointed that she still hadn’t come back. While I hungered for company, specifically her company, I was familiar enough with the cycle to recognize that she might never return.

Walking past the tiny green sprouts of my garden, I fell into my hammock, settling in with book in hand and chocolate on my lips. It was going to be a good day.