December 3, 2007 § Leave a comment
Some very good days, spent sequestered and writing in long, thick streams. Looking back, I can see the path I have walked, a straight line that leads unswervingly to where I am now. At this moment, it seems almost possible: if I keep walking, the line will slowly extend to a vanishing point and it will be done.
Meanwhile, the city waits for its onslaught of snow, which will arrive in a cold morning dark.