The weeds out front had grown window high during summer’s heyday. I marveled at their resilience. Those plants were angling to reach the sky by summer’s end. I could barely muster up the energy to wash a sink filled with dishes and fold two baskets of laundry. Still I finished both and cleaned up the train tracks we built earlier, although my body moved as if it was submerged in clay soil. I entertained the idea of making corn soup for dinner. Instead I stayed stuck to the couch and wondered if tomatoes and toast would suffice as dinner. I counted the hours until sunset.