Tangerine: A Book of Hours

Friday, and the rains are a ghost: lingering but not really present. Evening is full-on, yet the light is higher now than it was earlier. Birds in red and brown flitter and chirp, the highway whispers, and a plane buzzes by, far above.

Unseen.

I'm dressed and just about ready to float out into the weekend. Having a tall cold glass of water, at the moment. Typing to silence...mostly. I have been vaguely sleepy all day, a bit dislocated. Things feel calm.

At this point the weekend seems like a cat, slow-stretching.

I'm looking forward to going out, unwinding further. Despite the "neither here nor there" feel of the day, I managed to get a fair amount of stuff done. Things are quiet now, sleepy but ready to groove.

So I'm waiting, dreaming myself awake.