I'm spending time by myself tonight, after a week of busying myself with going out. To dinner, to dinner again, to music and drinks. I'm tired. I'm not as young as I once was. (Though I'm far from old.)
I've been siting on my front porch, in the fading light, reading my New Yorker, which is dedicated to stories of war. They are terrible and beautiful, and I feel small.
Posted by thevieve at June 16, 2006 8:43 PM