The Dinghy

I am feeling ill today.

Sure: The muzak is clocked to twelve on the stereophonic. OK: Neighborhood waifs are gaily frolicking in cordovan shoes on the garbage-strewn streets. Yes: The dogs in their holiday sweaters are dancing on their hind legs.

But those dogs (or perhaps just a lone perpetrator) have also, for the past six days consecutively, done unspeakable things to my morning newspapers. And that fact, no matter how much I may otherwise be inclined to good cheer, dampens enthusiasm.

I need to schedule time to write prose such as this. More here →

#literatures