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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
She quietly, unobtrusively carved a niche for herself within the emotion-choked clutter of her own house; with every object purloined from other rooms - table, chair, computer, task light, small travel clock - the simple excitement of potential seemed to be able to scrape guilt off the very walls.
What’s the weirdest thing you can think of right now?
When the walls first took on their mirror-like glow, allowing Henry to see his own reflection in just about any direction he happened to turn, he thought it amusing, a novelty of sorts, and he walked around the house looking at himself at every turn from every angle; but when the floors and ceilings took on that reflective quality, and then the couch and chairs and other furniture, the dishes and books and carpet beneath his feet began to reflect, he grew scared that he’d be lost forever, disappearing in some endless picture of himself, and he struggled for a way out, crawling on hands and knees as he bumped into all those things now lost to him, searching the reflection of his own frantic eyes for the door.
No matter how they were ranged between the rooms, their house always seemed to hold one chair too many.
“Woman,” Henry told his wife, “you’re disrupting some important work in zero momentum time travel with that racket, now stop vacuuming and get away from my chair.”
I had a dream I set out to cross the Sierras on a dining room chair; in time, I grew disappointed at my mileage, and fondly recalled a previous dream in which I’d burned up the highway on a rolling desk chair.
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