Sunning

The tomcat was sunning himself.

They're sunning themselves.

We're sunning ourselves.

You're sunning yourself again.

I was sunning myself on the balcony.

You were sunning yourself on the balcony.

They were sunning themselves on the balcony.

Around 15:00, my walking led me to Tim Hortons café, there to enjoy a Strawberry Watermelon Lemonade Quencher and a Lemon Poppyseed Muffin, as I sat sunning myself by the long table with a drawing of an ice hockey rink thereon. Homebound, in the alleyway, I saw dragonflies. In my mind, I say "tutubí" in Tagalog and "tombo" in Japanese. Sometimes, I chat with the anxious carpenters near the alleyway. It's the 24th of May of 2025.

I passed from the jaundiced lighting of the parking garage to the halogen glare of the walkway. Passed two porters, slumped on plastic chairs. Both glanced at my carry-on luggage, then blinked me away, as disinterested as sunning lizards.