I fell asleep in the living room, a room whose walls are made of windows, and I woke enveloped in an creamy orange light. The talking heads on the screen told me what had happened. Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn.
The scent of the burn is inescapable. The sun hovers in the sky like a maraschino cherry, threatening to come plummeting down and complete this sad sundae/Sunday of fire.
On a less conflagrant note, yesterday was simply marvelous. However, I fear that circumstance (and pomp) will not allow such activities to happen as often as I would have them. I cannot elaborate in such a public venue, but feel free to inquire within.
All this is going to catch up with me, isn't it?
Until then, I'm just going to have to keep
on
running.
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