We usually spent all of five minutes talking work, then our discussion turns to literature. I'm in a dry spell reading wise, so I asked her for a few suggestions she might have on something good to read. She suggested A Prayer for Owen Meaney by John Irving, so I purchased it after work. But, typical me, I came home and picked up Silence of the Lambs, and started to read that. Such a classless creature. But actually, I find the writing style interesting. It should prove to be a quick read.
I have felt...stronger lately. Unlike the summer, which is quickly losing steam. Dusk fell before eight tonight and I went for a walk with Prince with a coat on. as I smoked, I watched the cigarette in my finger slowly wind its way down towards my fingertips. I blew on the ember from the outside, rather than puffing in, just to se how it would respond. The cigarette flared orange around the edge.
Where did the summer go? And why do I feel that it's still here, within me?
(PS: They're broadcasting from a tattoo parlor on Spotlife tonight. Oooh, fun!)