Today, I ran into a good friend whose writing makes me drool (and whose blog you really must check out, called Word of Me, it's brilliant) and we talked about writing, Sherlock Holmes, Ghana, and blogging, among other things. And so I've decided to repent! And write more, just little pieces, to keep words fresh within myself.
So. Tonight, as I walked home from Spencer's apartment, (where I brought him a grapefruit and five dollars and returned with an original piece of artwork, a fortuitous exchange!) it was so cold that I wrapped my scarf around my neck three times (until I almost couldn't lower my chin without fear of cutting off my windpipe) and then once more, across my face. And then I sang all the way home, as loud as I wanted, all sneaky-like because the cars dashing by had only a smeared view of my eyes, forehead, and very shiny earrings before I disappeared again. My breath evaporated before me, slipping back into my face as I trotted homewards, back to muffins, a toasty afghan, and a good dose of literary analysis on "The Importance of Being Earnest." What strange breath of fortune tangles my hair on evenings like these.
Remember how you are an amazing writer and your prose style is absolutely divine?
ReplyDeleteBecause I just remembered.
How did I forget?
Keep writing please. It's fabulous.