A funny holiday, oui? Rest for the workers.
I did some fiddling today.
By some, I mean delicious hours.
By fiddling, I mean connecting imagination with fingertips.
I know it's too soon!
My Quirks is still an infant! Boxes of books and black stones and new Sharpies! And I know it's a resting holiday.
But I miss the movies in my mind. And so...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
When he returned, he had a plate of cold turkey, two buttermilk biscuits, and a tiny glass bowl of honey. He nodded, and the two men started eating off the same plate, without utensils, silently filling the emptiness. They dipped into the same honey, overlooking the sticky crumbs left by the other, the burden of words behind them, now.
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