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Multiplicity

Orange skies

Enjoying the night's breeze and a cup of tea out on the patio, nestled under the Japanese maple. Nothing of note to write; just wanted to spend some time out here, and writing makes a good excuse.

Finished up Fahrenheit 9/11. Regardless of political belief, the one thing that seems clear from the film is that Michael Moore is a manipulative, bitter man. How ironic that a man can be so large and so very, very small at the same time.

Pagliacci's gave me my pizza on the house tonight. I was delighted.

Looking at the patch of sky blanketed by low clouds, orange with the light of the city, I'm wistful and remember. It wasn't until college in Houston that I'd seen the night sky that way—in Iowa, the nights were star-filled, pitch black, or somewhere in between. The city's light was new to me, and I remember so many nights spent on a hidden rooftop perch, looking up with tears in my eyes and so many questions of God. That still happens.

Comments

This is such a lovely post. I've read and reread it several times. Thank you.