ignoring the muffled crashes coming from upstairs

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

ignoring the muffled crashes coming from upstairs Current mood: cold I feel like I am in a state of suspended animation. Outside the world is silvery grey, all color seeped away, leaving nothing but cold and sleeping twilight. The furnace runs, but still I feel chilled and sluggish like some cold-blooded creature futilely resisting the pull of winter's sleep. I have accomplished some things today, but it's been like pushing rocks up a hill. My soul aches for a book by a fireside, long hours of idleness stretching ahead into the evening. Electra comes inside for a pat and I press my face into her cool fur, breathing the redolence of chimney smoke and dry leaves. She would be a willing participant in my little dream, getting in the way of my book as she pressed kneading paws into my thighs and belly, until I bear her pricking claws no longer and she curls up to purr. We would sit there, she and I, curled under a blanket by the fire, and I would wander other worlds through the pages of my book, guiltlessly relishing the warmth and quiet.