And Marilyn Coughs in the Night
In what feels like the passing of a few years of yesterdays sunsets and roadways of Left Coast Greyhound rides and trains through the mountains have turned into the fading colors and brightly hued sunsets of an East Coast fall with sunflowers between sun's rays and around the corner of protruding Halloween decorations. If we pause to blink we will surely miss it as Christmas will erupt upon our collective souls before Thanksgiving has come or even settled in our bulging stomachs. After six weeks of living from a suitcase, a carry on, and one large backpack the need and desire to roll around in piles of clothes has fallen to the wayside. More like, the accruements of a capsule wardrobe are still enveloping me and the resting of ideals of using less, writing more, and finding a greater balance and return on take home pay threaten to become dethroned with the pressings of life and need to pay rent. There's probably a deeper analogy embedded in those bags;...