weather

Last night I sat in Spiderhouse's light-strung yard for hours. My reading companion and I exchanged articles across the table. Her hand was sometimes tapping a cigarette on the ash tray ledge, mine was sometimes trying to balance hummus on a chip, without eyes looking up from our pages. Sometimes one of us would take a deep breath and look around. Sometimes we would talk. It got cold and we went inside, and sat on the big couch in the front living room. Now that sundown is coming earlier, the dark, when it comes, seems darker. And more like a world of its own, where the important parts of your day will end up happening.

I am weathering the days until I am with you. That is all, at the moment, for the time being, I am managing to do. But some times, during those days, I am so very happy.