A different kind of orb.
I've started to cut away small portholes in that vast sea of green.
Sometimes there's something good underneath, sometimes not. Then I have to fiddle something into the hole.
The messages are falling into place: my characters are speaking to each other again and I am eavesdropping and making notes.
2 comments:
okay, couldn't help myself ... portholes and "sea of green" has me humming Yellow Submarine
Right? I had to play that song first every single morning that I drove Charlie to Pre-K for about four months. Then he switched to "Hey Bull Dog".
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