I left my camera out in the truck. I won’t worry about it, odds being such out here nobody’s coming through tonight with an urge to pillage an old rig with a big blue blinking LED on the dash. But I kinda remember a photo I thought I might share. I remember the thought, not the photo, so on second thought, maybe it’s not such a hot shot after all.
I have this strange feeling that I have left a handful of sentence frags lying about these tubes the last couple days. Blame it on the perpetual Nyte heralded to quell the phlegm. The battle is in its final throes, the last of the mean greenies spirited away in gossimer-like paper. I’ll double-back on my tracks in the next couple days and see how bad it got, and hope that meaning stayed intact. You know what I mean?
Like this ditty: Charles Barkley chimes in on the immigration thing, likening Hispanics to “the fabric of the cloth.” You know what he means, or at least recognize the spirit of the sentiment, although it lends little to the discourse. I’m down with that.
Lots of other stuff too, but for now I have to conserve my energy, narrow my focus. And go get my camera.
What'll it be?