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Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.

And no one called us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's
Something stirs and something tries
Starts to climb toward the light.


Saturday, July 18, 2009

Almost Sunday

Chapter sixteen is in the bag. It came in at 1385 words. There was plenty of time staring at the screen forcing the words out.

It's not good. I should probably run through it again before moving on, but I don't know if that will happen.

And right now, as you can tell, I'm drained of words. It's time for bed. Tomorrow is lunch with the niece who graduated HS this year. She's going to college way far away, so we won't see her too often after that.

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