Not forecast, but we get this slow rain, with thunder, underneath the clouds. It's strange, mostly because of the thunder, I didn't expect a sonic effect. Not that I did or didn't expect anything, I was merely awake. Not expecting a package, a package delivered in the middle of the night. When I close down, that's usually the end of it, I don't expect shit showing up on my desk. I mostly run a clean ship by not accepting requests. In so far as I can be serious. D thought it might be more serious than that. We discussed killing co-workers. This economic downturn. There's a bevy of shit going down. The cool thing is I just go get in my truck in the morning, no fanfare, maybe a lulling of the creek behind, and head off to work. These things aren't staged. It would cost too much and seem unreal. A flag would you go up, we'd be alerted. You thought you could get away with that? I'm sensitive to shit like this, what I thought was meant. I'm hungry, so I have an egg on chili on toast. It's 4:50 in the morning and very quiet. The Stella coaster, leaning against the espresso maker reminds me to flip the breaker to turn on the fridge. I don't actually flip the breaker yet, because the quiet is so delightful, just remember what the Stella coaster means. The murky business of communication. I take a foam pad out to the back porch, to sit on, and roll a smoke, get a short drink, put on my bathrobe and Linda's hat. The quiet is almost oppressive with the humidity hanging at almost 100%. It's not actually raining, but water condenses on any surface that is still, knowing moisture condenses around a particle of amything, I go back inside and collect a sampling of dust. In an extremely controlled environment, I can actually make it rain, or snow Cool, good to know. I thought I was almost useless, now I can precipitate condensate. What does that say about anything. Droplets or flakes condense around a particle of something, just a hint is enough, and dust is ubiquitous. I always have some laying around, lying around, wait: posit a dimwit in a tree at a fork in the road. You can ask him anything, but his answer might be hard to understand. Not unlike that hole in the rock that seemed to breathe a kind of meaning. I have to go sleep a couple of hours.
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