Monday, March 29, 2010
Done
When the notebook is full it’s like the tolling of a great gong. BONG! it goes, none too lightly. The notebook sits sodden and heavy and warped. The back cover has fallen off, and the pages run on like a long, hairy pair of knit eyebrows. Boy, there’s a lot of crap in there. You could comb through the scrawl, or you could go bury it in the backyard.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Or: string a rope from the deck to the maple, hang the notebook out like laundry, leave it there no matter what come its way; watch the elements do their thing.
Or that.
Lovely.
Mine are mundane: tucked into a drawer in stacks...why? I have no idea.
In any case, congrats on the passing from one notebook to the next.
Post a Comment