And so its back at it. Decidedly this summer swished by and me with it. You may have seen me out and about, who knows, maybe I healed your sick dog, or fixed your steps. I don't remember, but how are you? I saw you dancing at the Metal Museum, to rave music. I saw you drinking alone at Murphy's at three in the afternoon. I heard you on the radio, cringing about something to music. You've had a busy summer, too.
And now autumn is here. It is raining here in Memphis for the first time in two months. The wind drives it in on horseback, whipping the poor things with metal tipped tails! The trees are falling down in its rush, dried out to the point of breaking. The earth is soaking it up in boxes. I am staying inside, not like the birds. They are swimming.
I did get out this morning though. Raced out to pay rent, forcing Ms. Bantura off of her oxygen. She was winded at the door as I counted the money slowly. The rain had stopped for only a moment, and I drove back to town to get a cup of coffee. The deck became a waterfall as we smoked cigarettes and talked of the storms damage so far. Blackness, wetness, doors slamming, leaks, a crushed motorbike, mud.