what did you do today?

a captured moment:

i'm sitting on our foot stool, twisted sideways and to the right. on the butcher block is a deep earthenware bowl, characterized by rough textures and brown and green flecks, filled part way with chicken stew. beside it, split open and steaming from impossible angles is a tea biscuit, the recipe holding more charm and magic for me than most. i've put a bulb in the kitchen light that makes it look like high noon on the south wall- the white is positively glaring but i love it absolutely. coldplay, or the stones, or maybe belle and sebastian is playing in the background- something so familiar that i can't distinguish, nor do i care to.

my sweater itches around my elbows and around my shoulder blades, reminding me that wool is like nothing else and that my posture leaves quite a bit to be desires. my feet and ankles are like ice- my slippers have been abaonded with this slight promise of spring that looms over everything here and now.

i have a pencil crammed in my hair and a book dancing with words infront of me. despite what they say, i maintain that unWhigged cannot be a word. that damned w jumps out, its hugeness stark and frightening in form.

three seconds? maybe an eternity?

i had a dream about a place like this once.