4th oz, a pour

Looking outside, don’t see any light yet but I hear Ms. Alice upstairs, starting her day, slowly, struggling for speed and it’s hard for the poor dear, over 8 months into preg, and with so many conferences with parents and so many to-do’s in classroom, but she makes time for a shower which I hear her start.  Good.  Whatever gives her wholeness as this sitting does for her writing husband.  Hungry, suddenly, and strangely, but I don’t answer, I don’t eat, I funnel it into more writing energy and discipline and paired with the coffee I’m about to button, I’ll be a a fiery penner in a minute if I’m already not.

Note: NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow, and I need everything organized and in order for… begin with line “Ici, le chef?”, what I said and thought of the other night going up street to Piner Café, a bit of a dive but good food and their young female chef speaks fluent French, once telling me she lived there for nearly a year.  Maybe a bit more.  And I’ve never freed that detail from my visions, and now with this novel…..