Wandering The Coffee Dunes
I went to bed late, woke up early. It's warm for February so while the kettle fizzed I opened up windows. Birdsong flitted in. I found the last scoop of coffee in the emergency pot. Soft, fine powder and for a while I imagine a coffee dune and what sort of erratic foliage would tug a living there?
(Answers appreciated - flora and fauna. I have a twitchy spider that looks like bonbons...)
Sat in bed, lap top propped to never quite the right height. I've been working on chapters that are like a crazy patchwork and just trusting that they'll balance better than my keyboard and not result in carpal tunnel syndrome.
Musty-coffee coating my tongue.
How long has that pot been lurking?
Birdsong, blue sky...
The answer is, get your hammock slung up.
Because of the tired way I am dropping and forgetting stuff, and drinking strong but muddy water.
Fresh air, rest.
Find your way then.