when it rains in May.
Still there are ghosts in my bones
Shadows and ashes
Fragmentеd pieces of you that visit me in my sleep
I drеamed I offered you a ride, for old time's sake
Your pink fingers pressed against my back,
the other hand around my waist
Sorry, I don’t have more to write here lately - my tooth hurts and work is busy.
I go to Chicago tomorrow, the first time I’ve been back in 6 years or so. It rained most of the time I was there last but it was warm. I have a selfie from the nosebleed seats at Wrigley Field, my hair shows blatant signs of the humidity.
I’ve never felt romantic about Chicago - it was never a city to fall in love with. More of a one-night stand if you know what I mean. Sure the riverwalk is nice, but palm trees are a little sexier. Sure it’s only five hours away from my home with no traffic, but plans and buses tell a better story.
As I mentioned, sorry I don’t update this more. I get ideas in the shower but it’s usually in the middle of a workday and I can’t bring myself to write on the clock.
I don’t stay up late any longer - not even on weekends. Maybe, that was the key to writing consistently - it was for my father. I’d come in at 2 am and he’d be in his bathrobe eating a tub of cottage cheese sitting at his desk, writing his perpetually unfinished novel. I think it kept him company.
Alright, that is enough for this time. Listen to Noah Gundersen, have a great week, and don’t forget your umbrella out there.