dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Thursday, December 11, 2014

night note

I woke up from a dream about plans to go to a food bank, dusting chairs, getting into a fight with Clint Eastwood after he gave me a nasty look.  I have no interest in Clint Eastwood, but doesn't he give nasty looks? 

The wind is blowing a lot outside.  Someone's windchimes tink.  A big storm is coming.  SMUD even sent us emails telling us to be prepared. 

"Why do they want us to have a battery operated clock?" I asked.  Ming didn't know.  "So we know what time to eat lunch?" I asked.

"So we know how long it took for them to fix our power," Ming suggested.

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