September 2, 2013, Washington, DC: It’s morning and I’m lounging in our coffee chair. The newspaper is strewn across the apartment’s back room. Through open windows, the noises of the neighborhood trickle in: the voices of early risers who share our alley, Duran Duran’s Rio playing on a nearby radio, a neighbor’s alarm clock sounding next door. The sounds of the morning are audible but not bothersome, subtle rather than overpowering. The city is beginning to hum again after a quiet summer with the windows shut. Softly and slowly, we are tuning back in to the beauty of the everyday.
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