Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=RUSH. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

Early September AM

I yawn and stretch, displacing the kitty wedged against my hip;
He’s clever enough to patiently pad a circle as I settle,
Draping himself over the valley of my belly when I finally lie on my side.

I’d left the shades open
When the first wave of rain blew through,
Reconsidering that the open window would fail to balance the lingering humidity.
I long for the freedom of cooler air, a lower dewpoint.

I yawn and stretch, displacing the kitty wedged against my hip;
He’s clever enough to patiently pad a circle as I settle,
Draping himself over the valley of my belly when I finally lie on my side.

We’re poised on the cusp of Autumn:
The bright patchwork of brilliant colors,
Cool nights lingering in the sharp scent of fallen leaves
Crackling under boots laced up over slender wool socks,
Pumpkin spice coffee made the right way
At non-commercial local coffee shops
(a minimum of sugar and sweet-steamed milk
Potent enough to carry us through the shortening days).

It’s not here yet,
But the richness of the later sunrise light reassures.
So what’s the rush to rise when kitty purrs patience?

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)