Dripping faucet...

...on a balcony seldom used.

Morning light arrived in lazy yellow through a grey-cloud filter. Something was amiss. I am more patient in mornings. My attempts at juggling failed miserably. Warm coffee relaxed me a bit. What was I wondering about? What was the subconscious examining?

On the way, we halted. It was a lazy halt, a tad disturbing but inconsequential. Laziness followed. I read. There are a lot of words I end up reading these days. Wonder where they're all going. Am I losing them, or are they getting stuck somewhere in the deep recesses of my memory like insects on cobwebs?

I could afford a bit of time for lunch today, which was enjoyable. Free flowing talk and laughter. Indicators, both.

Setting to work with a kind of childish enthusiasm was a successful idea. Am I retracing my steps back? Or do I just keep going back and forth?

Back at the table, it was strange kind of frenzy. Not too meditative, and yet diverting it all towards a singular point, like flowing rivers of light emptying out to the sea. Laughter, punctuated by victories. And then some ideas.

Something is still amiss, as it was when the day began. I'm stifling its breathing, covering it in dust. Or perhaps it's an ostrich I'm imitating. Something will spring upon me very soon. Or worse, will be forgotten.