How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God, how vast is their sum! If I were to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand; and when I awake, I am still with You.
The kettle clicks off, and in the stillness afterwards you can hear the clock ticking in the next room. For someone living with a loss, a free afternoon can sound exactly like that. A house that used to hold voices, footsteps or a radio left on in the kitchen might now hold mostly you.
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