sharing a shiver
. It’s the damp grass scent that really gets to me.
. This mood is a weather is a mood.
. We talk about doing nothing and trying to be less hurried. I tell her of the lessons I’m learning.
. Yes, it’s nice but it’s not the same as when they are your responsibility. The purpose they give is everything.
. Fears. From the bathtub, I’m quietly naming them.
. The 25 lbs of clay she gives me is called Leviathan. A muddy red color, pliable and slick when wet. I hunch over the wheel and brace elbows against ribs and begin again. It’s not till later that I remember the pond and the clay dirt and the summer spent making mud bowls, left to dry in the sun.
. The clouds to the east are a bright pink, a reflection of the sun that has gone below any horizon I can see. I chase after it, but it does not wait for me.
. 8 minutes of pulsing pains.