Friday, January 8, 2010

Second Friday of 2010

Now that the house is quiet and my head is throbbing less [it is hard to wake up from sleep exhausted and drained], I can think about this draft that I know is a novel but I try not to call one, a draft that sprawls and drips from my fingers. It's unreasonably cold in NOLA today so the street is even quiet, for now.