Some visiting friends commented on how cool it was that no one needs to call or text each other on a Friday night to know where we’ll all be. I think they’re write.
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08/26/11 – Drinks at Dusk
And so thinking (so far as dogs can think in their cerufal relating to a world seen almost wholly through feelings), Kojak drifted down deeper, now into real sleep, now into a dream, a good dream of chasing rabbits through the clover and timothy grass that was belly high and wet with soothing dew. His name was Big Steve. This was the north forty. And oh the rabbits are everywhere this gray and endless morning As he dreamed, his paws twitched.