rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


Though long delayed, the inevitable days of stupefaction have arrived. I cling to shade, watching the bright world from its shelter. A neighbor's lawn sprinklers send glittering arcs of water cascading onto the bushes by the driveway. When the sprinklers go off, a few drops hang like crystals from the leaf-tips, refracting the rays of the late afternoon sun, then drop one by one to vanish in the dark soil. I drowse, enervated by the heat. No breeze stirs until dusk has fallen. Then, as I look up to see the first stars appear, a single meteor passes, burning away in the heat its own velocity generates in the chilly upper air. For a moment, I imagine that it means something, but I need no omen to tell me that I have no escape from summer.

  • Reset Forty-Six, Day Nineteen

    So Saturday's evening nap turned into a fairly long sleep, but I woke up very sad again. Maybe I had a sad dream and forgot it but kept the feeling.…

  • Reset Forty-Six, Day Eighteen

    It took me all this time to get around to remembering that I didn't get around to writing an entry about what might have happened on Friday, and now…

  • Reset Forty-Six, Day Seventeen

    Aside from the spaghetti I made for dinner, I've completely forgotten Thursday. I don't even remember when I got up, or how I slept, or whether or…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.