rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


The gray returned today, with an obscure sun casting feeble shadows which paled with passing afternoon. The flowers of the sourgrass remained closed all day. Evening's chilly air is dense, and scented with impending rain. Still, the birds are chirping, getting on with the business of spring, building nests and finding mates. I weave my moods out of what nature provides, the active recipient of passive gifts. Each of these days is not like the other. I feel like grass waiting to be watered.

  • Reset Thirty-Five Day Thirteen

    Sunday got very, very wet. It was raining when I went to sleep around eight o'clock in the morning and raining when I got up around four o'clock in…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Twelve

    Saturday was grey anticipation, the cool air expectant, the tentative showers like a tease. Not until nightfall did the rain really begin, and then…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Eleven

    Friday I took another midnight nap, though all I'd intended was to try to straighten out a kink in my back. Lying on my back for a few minutes ought…

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