...Too many stars in the constellation. Serious consolidation for this wine admiring scribbler. Tonight, hot. Not as forceful, though, the heat. Crickets, below the window’s fly-occupied screen. Can’t tell if they’re encouraging or taunting. Either way, I’m annoyed. Vacation, travel, all I’m thinking about. Overseas cafés, lounges, varietals, characters. Want Paris again. I’ll stay there. With... Wine doesn’t entail enclosure, to me. It demands, challenges, exploration, the unconventional. The unpatterned. Authors need escape.
I am an author.
Wondering how vehement the temperature plans for morrow. Need to charge cameras, as I’m hoping I’ll wake a bit earlier for a vineyard photo session. It’ll be rushed, but I’ll get some favorable A.M. light for those green patches, rows. Twelve hours from now, the photo session’ll be over, seconds trapped in the digital barrel rooms inside my cameras.
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