Neither Here nor There

Back home sitting in the same old dark at the same old table with all the same old problems.  Neither Here nor There.  I will take out a personal ad on Craig's List.  "Broke Down.  Seeking Redemption."  I wonder what that might bring?

I missed the Hunter's Moon.  I knew it was there for the astrologer got ahead of it by a couple days this month to leave no doubt.  I had looked forward to it coming up over the bay, but the night was full of clouds and there was never even a little peek.

I woke to a wet morning.  This was my vacation day.  I went downstairs and through the lobby to the Starbucks attached to the hotel and ran into everyone from the conference standing in line in business suits, coifed as for a board meeting.  Ran into my boss in my t-shirt and underwear (how she got into them I'll never know).  Of sorts.  Lounged the morning away until it was time to check out.  The rain was beginning to wane.

I went to the Museum, and it is a good one.  The permanent collection was a miracle in such a backwater town.  It is a half step or so behind the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, sure.

Oh. . . I can't go on.  I can't write at all today.  Something inside has just fallen apart.  Everything is too much.  It happens even to the good ones.  Here's what happens to heros.  Even heros, I should say.  The Old Man and the Cat.  And the Longing.  Damage done.