The days have silent edges now that I've returned from my vacation in Hawaii. When I glance up from my computer, light spills between the blinds, casting the shadow of bars along my carpet in L.A. I'd forgotten the inordinate amount of time I spend in my apartment here. A restless yearning fills me, and a craving for a cinnamon latte from a coffee shop 2,500 miles away.
My last few weeks in Hawaii, I'd wake at 7 a.m. to the buzzing of a text asking me if I wanted to walk. I was the puppy wagging her tail to the intonation of syllables, throwing off the covers and brushing my teeth in puffy eyed slumber.