Waking the wolverine, run my little red riding hood. Run.

'I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people's eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth.'
-Sylvia Plath.

We're starting off this weekend early.

Thunder clouds, the violin, and yawns.

It's been one of those weeks.

Our discussions on how similar the moon is to the sun.

Both emitting light.

If they are so opposite, why is the sun light and the moon not dark? We ask.

Lift ups and tear downs on this.  

A theatrical experience tonight.

It's been so long since my body has been near any production.

Pale skin and distant freckles is all I have.

It's been one of those weeks.

Trips to get drinks. Beehive. Spark. Blue Lemon.

I had forgotten my water bottle on my way to work, turned my car around and returned back home to get it. 

Went inside. 

Ate a yogurt.

Went to work.

Forgot my water bottle.

We have that in common.

It's been one of those weeks.
Next:
Hands.

-(h.)