Hi.
Coffee: Maxwell House Master Blend, Office Coffee
Before 8am, fire trucks ran the road in front of our apartments. I stood in the kitchen and listened, trying to count, but I couldn’t get a number. More than one, less than five. The sirens brushed together, like second cousins at a funeral.
It was a long day. Tomorrow’s an early morning. I haven’t felt inspired. Or, I’ve felt inspired, but my inspiration keeps dribbling into other things, life, hobbies, work. I’ll have more for you tomorrow. But it was an empty day, anyway. Except for those sirens. Those stuck with me. I still hear them.
Currently Reading: Another Country, James Baldwin
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My brow still burns from the kiss of the queen; I have dreamed in the grotto where the siren swims . .
Gerard de Nerval, Selected Writings
Livesay Writing 