The day started with me finishing my zillionth book. I had been reading Song of Solomon for the past three days and was eager to hear the end of Milkman's story. He had felt trapped by his family, just as I feel trapped by mine, or by what is left of mine, or maybe even this town. I have always loved reading but every-since meeting Herman my love have grown exponentially. We meet every Wednesday and Sunday to report to each other what we've been reading and if we would recommend it. He actually recommended Song of Solomon. After finishing my book, I went to the kitchen to make my first coffee of the day. I sat by the window and watched the sun begin to rise. My gaze became fixated on all of the people franticly walking into town. It was odd that the streets were this populated on a Tuesday morning. While looking down, I saw Herman amidst the crowded sidewalk. He was walking alone, with a rather concerned look on his face. I don't know why but I had the sudden urge to foll...
Ever since my son's return, it's been hard for me to sleep. I didn't speak to him the day of the newspaper crisis and I hadn't seen him since. I've come to wonder if he was just my imagination. As these persisting thoughts have continued to swell my brain, the 12 hours of sleep I had endured last night seemed surreal. I was elated to learn that I had slept through the night and when I looked out the window, my day became even better. White flurries swiftly glided through the air before they landed on the snow infested ground. I loved the cold. When it was cold outside I could cozy up in my battered lounge chair, next to the fire place, and read. And not feel guilty if that's the only thing I do all day. Before I got the free place ready, I wandered to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, coming to the realization I had run out the day before. That's fine I thought to myself, I will go into town and grab some. There was only one cafe open in the whole town ...