Today was cold and grey and unspringlike; I didn't go out, I made myself dinner, I read a couple of books and a couple of scripts and worked on nothing except this story which I am still trying not to break. I don't seem to have the brain to work on anything else. I remember being able to multitask around fiction, but I suspect that was when I did not go years between completing stories. Both of the cats have been affectionate and inconvenient. I am telling myself it is not bad to have days like this.
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Active Entries
- 1: On Fortuna's wheel, I'm running
- 2: I know it made your head spin, what we did with money
- 3: But now I'm a villain, I'm a killer, a dying light
- 4: Every flower needs to neighbor with the dirt
- 5: Contamination begins almost immediately
- 6: Ever since I met you, honey, I just want to get laid
- 7: It's mortal primetime
- 8: Flicking embers into daffodils
- 9: Carve the sun into a diagram that reads to you
- 10: Man, you can't do that in the Army
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