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fajrdrakoA weekend. I'm at my desk at work, with an empty Ty Nant bottle beside me and a scattering of papers. I'd like to go home and write some fic; but I'm off to a funeral early tomorrow in Lindsay, Ontario, a place I've never been. I expect it to be beautiful.
I can think about stories in the car.
It is the funeral of someone I hardly know - his daughter is a friend of mine. I'm not sure how I feel about the occasion; I only knew him through her eyes. I suspect I will learn more through is eulogy than I ever new about him when he was alive. And ever since seeing "Zoolander", I want to call it an oologogy.
I corrupt so easily.
My office is hot. The world is hot. Who turned up the global heat in September?
I can think about stories in the car.
It is the funeral of someone I hardly know - his daughter is a friend of mine. I'm not sure how I feel about the occasion; I only knew him through her eyes. I suspect I will learn more through is eulogy than I ever new about him when he was alive. And ever since seeing "Zoolander", I want to call it an oologogy.
I corrupt so easily.
My office is hot. The world is hot. Who turned up the global heat in September?
