I don't have any words today. I see lovely, glowing comments on my posts, and no words bubble up to equal those shining things.
I don't have any words this week. Strange things have been afoot around my workplace: lurching stomachs, family tragedies, a full leg cast. The sound of clashing metal brought a few of us to the windows that face the street. A semi had cut a corner too close, smashing into one parked car that shoved into another. Cars and crooked semi lounging uselessly below our office windows. With resigned looks at each other we shrug, only to be expected this week.
I don't have any words tonight. Mr. Billy gallantly giving up his chair before the computer so I could work on the book, and nothing. I look at the page and want to vomit. Not words. Dinner maybe, then lunch, then old cans and boots and dust bunnies and a disheveled cat. But no words, no words.
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true stories, found objects and scratch fiction
4 comments:
They'll come back if they know what's good for them.
Hey Chems...it's spring. You could lay your head on the green, green grass in Marin by the cows and listen to the words racing underneath...you know, just away from the traffic noise and printer noise and the mind-numbing hum of flouorescent lights. Sigh. Sometimes I think the folks at Gobekli Tepe did the right thing.
Rest and rejuvenate, missy!
Maybe what you need for now are some pictures.
Dinner first, and then lunch? My order often goes: breakfast, lunch, breakfast. Maybe you're onto something.
xo even when you're wordless.
Anne, I've wrestled the little bastards into my closet. Don't open the door or they'll escape.
Suzanne, a brief escape might be just the thing, a moment of quiet. Even if that isn't to be hoped for soon, thank you for making me Google Gobekli Tepe.
Geo, walking backward through the day is sometimes the only solution. xo back.
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