Cleaned Out

I've found that's how I feel after a good workout- like a lot of toxins or chemicals or something got flushed out of my system. Whether or not this was really the case, I'm not sure. I hope not, as the thought of being full of toxins is somewhat disconcerting. I went out for a run last night, in the cold and dark. It was great, and I managed not to run into anything, streetlights on occasion leaving something to be desired. I started work on a couple short stories, which prove to be difficult. Coming up with a plot that isn't overly derivative isn't easy. I found actually coming up with ideas and characters is not, although the horror stories I'm writing are in a genre notorious for cliched plots. There's a lot that can be done, but I want to avoid just writing a spinoff of something else. Perhaps I should expand my literary horizons a little more; that never hurts. Back to the books!

For A Friend

Hello child, I

called from the fringe-

Her first memory was of wings

sitting at the

pier's edge, her

world stretching across

water's expanses in echoes

Her first memory was of wings

Tiger lilies nod their

orange heads in the breeze-

Here there be dragons

beyond the window, where

she slept

Her first memory was of wings-

Both of us know

she can fly