The day is just the day
Emily doesn’t have to wonder until 9:40 anymore. She can just look.
Emily looks once, a little after eight. Mom’s okay. Then she goes to work. The rest of the day is just the day.
One look. Eleven quieter hours.
Emily’s day drawn as a soft band of hours from eight in the morning to twenty to ten at night. Emily is a small figure at her desk on the left and with her children on the right. A single sun sits at six minutes past eight, and a short notice says her mother replied and all is well.
Drag to compare her day.