Albany
If Minsang Lee's tossing three and half feet below me hadn't stirred me at 6:25 this morning I wouldn't have noticed the red color at the bottom of a thick drinking glass on the window. It was cold in the common room. Outside the world was in the sun's blood-shine, fat peach and textured pink lay on bruised clouds that abruptly stopped where the color continued to stretch and explode.
I'm reading "A Farewell to Arms" by Hemingway. He's my new favorite. I've never had a favorite, so it's just new. And great.
I'm reading "A Farewell to Arms" by Hemingway. He's my new favorite. I've never had a favorite, so it's just new. And great.