Same Days.

Sometimes, it cools off enough in the evenings to sit outside. Sometimes there is a breeze. Sometimes it stays hot and there is no breeze. Regardless, it does not rain. That was last week, and that is this week. Hard to say when that might change.

I'm putting the novel through its paces one last time before the next time. I have lost track of time and calendar. There are early-morning dogwalks. When I remember to stock the cooler, there is ice and beer. There's a cistern of coffee in the fridge for iced coffee. At some point I acquired a new pair of shoes. I'm wearing an old lucky hat. My dreams have gone haywire. I wake up tired.

Maybe it will never rain again.