I sat among the unwashed piles of dishes with the cat and finished the remnants of my dinner and felt very free.

7 thoughts on “44”

  1. I want to be utterly stray like the cat, who has (I’m sure) forgotten where he came from, doesn’t care where he goes, has no friend, sleeps on cornices and whose only concerns in the world are fishheads and sex. (But not babies, mind. Babies are a drag.)

  2. There was a time when you stopped blogging. It was the worst of times for my web browser.

Express. Engage. Etcetera.

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