Six-oh-two and just arose, it's too late to write my blog this morning, not wanting to anyway, when I looked at the clock last night it said Fri 12:01 AM. I thought it was nine o'clock but the evening had been talked away and was gone. Now it's time to sip the black Kona as the chocolate finishes melting on the tongue, and get ready to walk.
Outside immediately upon waking, cool out, pleasantly cool, the porch rail is wet from last night's rain, sky heavily overcast, but flashing rubies and emeralds are clear looking out across the black velvet of my beloved Bay.
Where would I be if I could this morning. Already there, here, right here, already where I would be if I could. There's that flashing green light I used to watch from 2308 predawns when I'd walk down the steps and the concrete path to get Linda's paper, ever mindful for bears having swum across from Tyndall Field. And somewhere out there in the darkness, rowing softly on the velvet I guess, Χάρων the ferryman of Hades coming for me.
I would if I could, and I can so I am.
Friday 201603180622, what: Bravo, being it's CDLT?