January 10, 2004

Writing Aerobics #1

I feel like a traveller of old who has lost his way on a moonless night. Huddled over a damp, smokey fire wondering what dark fate might await him in the gloom. Moments spent in the warm company of friends seem distant and more precious than he ever realized before - a treasure that has fallen from his pocket on the road. He reassures himself his path will be rediscovered in the morning and passes the night recalling fables of a coming dawn.

Posted by thom at January 10, 2004 11:18 PM | TrackBack
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