Four hundred words on a snow day on some bit of something J’s asked me to write. Somehow, we will struggle towards the strength to write one hundred more. Within the weave of the day a few strains of competence and achievement have been shuttled through. Gleaming little strands. I up and made a personal call. I elected to sell the car because one amount was more than the other. I arrived at the right time. I did as the devil pleased. I did all I could out of kindness, but then, no more.
I looked after myself and committed to writing the words no matter how I tired I was.
