Same Bolts
The dog at the house where I'm staying in NYC just gave air to her strange animal sorrows, a thin whine growing more fully into a loud howling dirge. I stood in the doorway and said "poor Avery, that was beautiful." Apparently when she stopped that was all she had to say, so then I sat down and pet her until I got bored. She's part chow and has beautiful red, white, and black fur, especially lush on her dog's butt. Her face is stout like a bear's.
Reading The Little Friend, eating leftover soul food, drinking sips of whiskey (and then fizzy water), burning sage sticks. Our equipment is taking up half of the room. It's incredibly cozy.
2007-03-27, 2:02 p.m.