The wind blows my hair all over my face, and I can't walk anywhere without my vision being temporarily blurred.
The reason I move from library to library? One of them is too cold, one of them is too loud, one of them is too warm. Together they're complete, but apart they make me fall asleep.
I woke up on Tuesday morning, and even though I was about 500 pages behind schedule in "Clarissa," I was thrilled to have no writing, no writing, no writing to do until next Tuesday. I might just make it out of here alive.
2 comments:
I really like the rhyme in the second paragraph for some reason. Was that intentional?
yes, it was :)
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