Even though I dislike opening anything with anything that comes close to weather, unless it's something about weather, and weather is used a metaphor, or some repeating sound, whether it's done well or clever, or whatever, I find myself staring out at all this weather, this rain. I don't mind it. Not usually. Through the large windows, the view is slightly distorted. And wet. Like a TV channel that doesn’t quite come in all the way; contorted banal images of parked cars and that brick building are all I see. I admit, it would be a pretty boring channel even if it did come in clear.
The latest efforts have stalled and I'm not sure why. The typing, that sound, like rain, is a rare sound. But I crave it. And all these commas, like little drops on the page, little moments where I stare up, look out, are stilting this. Words on stilts, tilting. Whatever this is. A free write of sorts. Sort of. Regardless of word counts, or lack of, and despite avoiding thoughts of homes for sale, and home, and in spite of the weather, this rain, today was a good day.
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