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Process

Tuesday 6/4/24

Wrote a story today. We'll see what it is and what has to happen. Everything is a process and everything is different. The process might take a while, it may not take a while. It might happen at once, it might happen in succession, it might happen intermittently. Late last summer I wrote a story called "Brothered" in just a few days, which will be for Big Asks: Six Novelettes About Acceptance. It was 12,000 words. Worked on it some more, put it aside, and I'll come back to it and this is its process. "The Bird" is not 12,000 words. It's awfully far away from 12,000 words. To say the least. A six-year-old could read it in one short sitting. But I've worked on it probably thirty or forty different times. Sort of all bunched close together, sort of not. That's its process. Like I said, everything is process and everything is different. Let the process be what the process is.


Stair running, push-ups, and walking the last two days, but very pedestrian numbers which are not worth mentioning. My legs felt kind of empty today. I was just out there to break a sweat.


Began my day with an apology. A friend is coming here to help me make this apartment livable. They had asked me if I wanted to go the Cape and I had said no. It's too painful for me. Right now, there's just this situation that is worse than hell and this war I am in against these evil people. Nothing else exists. Then I realized this morning that he has his mother's ashes and he's wanted to scatter them at the Cape and I wasn't even thinking about that. So I apologized and said I would be happy to go with him to the Cape if that was something he wanted to do. I don't think that's why he brought it up but I wanted to make sure I wasn't being a deterrent.


Had been a while, but my presence was requested today to FaceTime with a certain four-year-old buddy of mine who was over Grammie's house, so I did that. Gave her a big wave and said how much I had missed talking to her and she got a huge smile on her face. No one calls me by my Christian name more than this child, who drops it in oh-so-casually. Again, I think she thinks I'm her friend in Boston, which is fine with me. I was able to pass on the little ghost girl's congratulations for finishing out the school year. Then she showed me how she rides her bike and said that her goal this summer is to learn to do it without training wheels.



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