Dec 2020
It looks like I'm marooned here.
I've checked the fuel; it's not good.
There's simply not enough for the journey home.
Not enough inspiration, nor enthusiasm.
Sensuality night work, but there's little to be found.
If the landscape wasn't so bleak and inhospitable, I might be able to mix some kind of cocktail. A Martini. Or a Margarita, perhaps.
Wearily, I open the door to the engine room. A familiar white light shines over the chilled glass shelves. I tell myself it's going to be okay.
I've checked the fuel; it's not good.
There's simply not enough for the journey home.
Not enough inspiration, nor enthusiasm.
Sensuality night work, but there's little to be found.
If the landscape wasn't so bleak and inhospitable, I might be able to mix some kind of cocktail. A Martini. Or a Margarita, perhaps.
Wearily, I open the door to the engine room. A familiar white light shines over the chilled glass shelves. I tell myself it's going to be okay.
