Yesterday was what we call a Good Day.
We turned up the music and chopped vegetable together and made a great pot of veggie chili, the kind that leaves your tongue burning for a hour afterwards (the chili-making came after a brief walk I took in the morning during which I discovered that my left hip joint is acting like it doesn’t want me to take walks).
The rest of the day was filled with writing, some movies, a nap, a brief power outage and a little reading. It was the first time we haven’t hosted some kind of cookout for Independence Day. I had a great time.
Just a few minutes ago I woke up from a dream that had me rushing to get ready for the first day of high school. Once I got to school, but before I went in, I wrote a short story in the car and was an hour late for classes. I don’t remember anything about the story except it concerned a young man named Sacking Forest, whose mother admitted to him she was high when she came up with that moniker. He didn’t mind being called Sack, though he preferred King.
I got up to write down that name.
I have to write another short story today. It doesn’t feel like a Sacking Forest kind of tale. But we’ll see.