Great thunder tonight. One round cracked so hard the chair my legs are resting on vibrated. Now it's rolling by high above like a long jumbled tumbling afterthought. I love it. The downpour has turned to light rain and the mist that was blowing over me as I sit here on the screen porch has stopped. Occasionally a seabird squawks by. I can't bring myself to go in. Lightning is still making a black silhouette of the trees along the creek. It's much cooler tonight. The little critter out in the mangroves who sounds like he's playing a tin can with a stick has started up again and there are fewer, smaller tiny winged creatures crawling around my computer screen.
Language itself is a barrier.
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The ice in my drink melted long ago. I lean forward and take a long drag off my Marlboro, and a drop of sweat from my brow falls on the lit end and makes it hiss.
Sorry. Hijacked your post.
It's hot, too hot for sleeping. But the nighttime heat is comforting. Reminds me of childhood summers visiting my grandparents. Second hand smoke, peach ice cream, moths circling the single yellow bulb. I can almost hear it; I know it's there, I just have to ...
Ice cubes shock my teeth. I swallow, and watch the night sky, and wait.
Oops. Damn you people.
Then a dame walked into my office with a figure that described a pair of parabolas that would cause cardiac arrest in a yak.
I had that book. Long gone, alas.
My other favorite passage was the one about Boolean Algebra--where formerly unsolvable equations were dealt with by threats of reprisals.
Roy & Don. That's hilarious. I'm dyin' here without internet so thanks for memories and laughs.
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