Ready for bed. Offer made on house, now I wait, we wait. I hate waiting like I hate waiting longer. Sipping a sparkling water, day off tomorrow but I have to grade.. ugh, that goddamn stack. Wanting to wake at five to get a head start on word count, write a fiction standalone, or just freely here in journal. But early, early is the goal, and write a free set of sentences. Not any longer writing what I want to do tomorrow or how I’m going to accomplish any, but I want to note how I want to feel; FREE. Free in everything..
My friend, Edward Pierce, a writer living in New York. A writer of longer fiction, and fiction that doesn’t bore me.. he lives day by day and never lets a thing under his armor, nothing, but then he lives that life, the life of the free writer so why would he worry? He’s free…