I was writing in my sleep. It was about the alley and how I could feel the old house sitting in the dust just on the other side of the asphalt street.
Invisible, blocked by a row of oily-damp garages and the quiet backyards of Sugarhouse. It was the house I was married in. Not the verb, as in I got married there but I was married there- a married woman.
Now I don't really have time to write.
Between the hours that were suddenly diverted yesterday & the unfinished work, I needed to make up for this morning at the gym. I don't have time to lay down the words that walk big circles around my feelings about having to be that close to it again.
But I did want to at least note it was written, all be it was only in a dream.
animals-on-counters (135) art (28) Baby J (29) backway Nevada (8) beneath the blue (129) chasing antelope (31) EBR photography (18) farm-a-cation (41) fences make (25) gods of glass and other broken things (91) grade 8 (5) history for history haters (26) holiday magic (48) hot springs (13) houses of straw (23) Idaho (3) knee deep (25) Life With Man by mlb (6) math (5) meanwhile down in the science lab (14) our 7th Grade (14) pegma (55) quiet down in front (185) right where I left it (28) seconds (73) signs of life (185) SLC (126) taming venus (6) the back forty (42) the keeping room (2) the life and times of Little Giants (154) the lunch line (3) the school house rocks (133) the wood shop (11) urban intersections (131) village life (224) way out west (123) weekending (187) wild west Utah (42) words of a barefoot cowboy (3) world history (4)