Strange Days

Smoke changes the sun rise, the light of noon, the whole world. Our surroundings are nothing but light bouncing. The light is different.

There have been earthquakes and mindquakes these last couple of weeks. Some of it even turned into turbulence, and fear is so quick to slide a hand in and put the choke on. I'm not choked. That's reassuring.

Still, I remember knives. How quick I was to slide a mind over and grip the blades.

Shall be incommunicado for a few days. Not, I admit, that I've been in communicado much of late. Poor blog. You've been so quick to slide down the priorities list when fiction fiction fiction beckons. I guess I'm weary of dissecting my life.

No fear. I'm sure that's another dirty habit I'll come back to before long.