I left the room to wash out the throw-up bowl. When I returned, I saw that Eleanor had written a love note to Sylvia, using her finest Best Guess Spelling. She affixed it to the couch with transparent packing tape, lest a strong wind arise and blow away the message.
Amid the pungent smell of barf, I gathered up this moment like a gleaner collecting grain.
I treasured it and pondered it in my heart.