Scattered Showers and Streaming Sunlight.

My dreams drifted lightly by as I dozed off into a soft sleep. The sky had just finished darkening and I awoke a few minutes later to the suddenly set sun. The day built bright around me and the rain fell erratically onto my head. Through scattered showers I walked, the sun streaming down in blinding little lines between big buildings. The wind was harsh and fierce and it blew the light rain against my face with a sting. All day I have been silent, mostly so, standing back and watching myself as I moved forward, through something and toward very little.

My nap was short and I was awoken rather harshly by an improperly formatted version of 'I Offered It Up To The Stars and the Night Sky'. Warren's violin shrieked in my ear and I jolted up from my spot on the sofa, searching frantically for the laptop. I fell asleep mid-sentence halfway through The Artificial Nigger by Flannery O'Connor and I think I half-dreamt the ending, the grandson's frightened eyes, the repeated buildings, the lawn-jockey. I think I remember it right but it's vague. I haven't read it in some time.

The night has now fully descended on the city. I know that most of what I will do today I have already done and I wonder if that is enough. I've updated afrailandslenderlie.blogspot.com and added photographs to the posts. I've walked around a bit and read the city paper, had an espresso and some lamb. I've stood on my roof and photographed the sun setting through the trees, bright behind the clouds. I've walked in the rain and stood in the sunshine and sat in a small cafe. I've written rather little but it feels like a lot.

The warmth is imminent now. I know it will come and I hope it will come soon. It is much easier to be fit and healthy when the weather is warm. I want to eat steak tartar all summer long. And sushi and salads. I want to sit outside of Grand Cru and sip Rose and eat smoked salmon. I remember those short summer breaks between shifts. They were always so nicely illuminated by a sparkling wine and a matching smoked salmon. But, I dreaded work more than ever because the sun shone through the windows and I wanted nothing more than to be outside. In the winter the fire is raging in the fireplace and there are few places I'd rather be than darting in and out of marble tables, listening to the bubbling din of the bistro buzz.

Tomorrow is Friday the Thirteenth. I wonder if anything strange will happen.