Not much happenin'.

For the record, Seventh Generation shower cleaner is great. It doesn't have nasty chemicals and evil scents that set off my MCS (it smells citrusy) and I don't have to worry that it's going to kill the various small animals/critters running around that I don't want to be killed.
Leaving for Seattle tomorrow on the evening train; late checkin that night and then I'm free for three days while Chris works.
And The Yeggs and the Yahbuts is a very, very cute book, cuter than I remembered.
Back to writing now.

Wounding and healing: part five. The end of the first section ...

Well baby, there you stand…With your little head, down in your hand …Oh, my god, you can't believe it's happening again …Your baby's gone, and you're all alone
And it looks like the end….

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

He'd had this thing for, what, a year now? Just kicking around, locked in its little velvet prison, waiting for a simple word to spring it from its captivity like a square flower about to bloom.

Someday she would say yes. Someday. Sometime. She would. He had to believe that, had to believe that this time might be it.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
( Continued... )