It’s raining and dark outside this morning. I drink coffee at my improvised desk. I will warm up with some declarative sentences, although I have nothing in mind to write later except perhaps a short story that involves the legendary UCLA basketball coach John Wooden, and who wants to read about that autocrat.
A couple of crow perch in a swaying deciduous tree.
I hear geese somewhere in the distance.
A Tri-Met bus rolls past.
Another bus goes by.
People walk their dogs.
Someone is rifling through the bottle bin on the street.
My coffee is weak.
I saw a kind of fort in a wooded city park yesterday.
I also saw two homeless men sitting on the concrete having a conversation.
I’m not sure what day it is.
I have to drive downtown today.
Perry Mason is on in an hour.