What was on the wall that day.
My wife brought home a slice of carrot cake from a meeting because she knows. Twenty-two years of knowing.
My mom keeps my baby teeth in a small box. Whole box.
The mechanic charged me less than the estimate because the part was cheaper than he expected. He could have pocketed the difference.
Snow falling under a streetlight at three in the morning.
My father took us to the airport just to watch the planes. We never went anywhere. We just watched.
A clean windshield.
My partner kept my mother's hand-knit afghan on our bed even after she died.
A man returned my wallet with everything in it. He drove twenty minutes out of his way.
The man at the bagel place remembered I take poppyseed. I hadn't been in for two months.
I forgave him today. I don't know if he knows. I do.
A whitetail buck stood at the edge of the woods. The dogs didn't see him. He let me see him.
A bus driver waited for a woman with a cane to make it to the curb. Quiet, no fuss.