are all over the floor.
The front door is open
and I should sweep them out.
Instead, I close the door.
My Brittany growls at me.
I shoo him away.
Instead, I sit at the table
and take a sip of your unfinished wine.
It burns my throat as I swallow.
There were better ways for this to end.
This mess needs a vacuum now.
I finish the last of the wine in your glass.
Dragging the vacuum from the closet,
I plug in and start the motor.
Tomorrow will not be as easy as this.