Falling

Just when I think I can write, I run into a blog like "Thinking Too Hard" and I am blown away. Shit! Will I ever get there?

But writing takes endless patience, and I am not endlessly patient. Sometimes it is like putting my hands into fire, to write everyday. Some days, I could come out of my skin, I want to write so much. And other days, like today, I just want to connect...and it took all of five minutes for my ego to readjust so that I can publish this without blushing, or even blinking...

It's time to brave the arctic wind, and open the windows so the unicorn meat eating cats can hunt. I leave the window open most days now, all day, and they hunt into the night. They know the winter is coming, when hunting is poor. Or they lounge by the pool, bottoms warm in the chair cushions, watching the stars spill across the sky as the sun fades.

And Max, the dog, wants to go out, too. I sit at the computer every morning, casually reaching down now and again to scratch him; chanting to him soft and low, the same songs I gave to Eddie, my service dog. Once in a great while, if I am tired, I call him by Eddie's name...

And more and more leaves swirl into the pool.