I have a consuming fantasy that involves living in a very small house. Running my life from a place with space for books, a cube fridge and a stove. The kind of place for Saturday morning pancakes and falling asleep to rain on the roof.
Am downloading bootlegs from Trashcan Sinatras and making tea. It's lyrical proficiency... like Damien Rice hanging out with Crowded House.
The sun has fallen down and I need to do more work before I sleep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment