Over Coffee (34)

If we were having coffee it’d be an at home deal. I don’t trust this weather so I’m trying to avoid venturing out into it. Shame really, I was in the mood for a proper cafe coffee.

It’s been bizarrely cold lately, considering it’s the middle of summer, and right now it’s almost 10 p.m. I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen looking out onto the road outside: under the streetlights, the rain is sheeting down all backlit by the lights. My neighbours have a very tall tree which is blowing around, and it’s quite a cool chiaroscuro effect against the pale rain.

I’d take a photo, but I’m not chancing my phone in the wet.

There’s a pile of books to read on my table and if I shift them to the floor and make one single stack it’s going to come up to my knees. I’m a moderately tall woman, so that should tell you a lot about the number of books.

Argh, the lights are flickering. I like not that… nor do I like the rumbles of thunder I think I’m hearing. Do you hear it too?

I’d tell you a bit about the new poem that’s been published and that I’m still waiting on two submissions. I’ve also been delving wholeheartedly into the Sherlock TV series in the absence of other awesome mystery series that catch my fancy, and the potential for work is picking up very slightly. Like, by five percent.

I haven’t really written anything new, but there’s a couple of things rattling in my brain.

How has your week been?


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