5 days to adjust the drums!

p. 25

A vagabond life of the mind.  An undefined life, like a Polaroid print that has only partially filled in.

Joyce Carol Oates

Cardiff, by the sea

2020

fabulous first paragraph

In the dark smelly place beneath the sink. Behind the drainpipes. She has made herself small enough to hide here.

Strands of a broken spider's web sticking to her skin. Her eyes wet with tears. Hunching her back like a little monkey. Arms closed tight around her knees raised against her small flat chest.

who

wants to read this?

Cletha

Said they're trying to kill her: people outside in the community, people back in Haiti and her own man whom she is in love with sometimes.  Hardline to go back and forth between thinking you're in love and thinking your lover wants to kill you. Would he really get that much out of her? Is she really that important? Wow. What a way to think of the victim, but interesting thoughts.

All have sinned

Pretty obvious, but people ignore it. I just heard on Chris Yoon's YouTube channel comments that we shouldn't call ourselves sinners anymore, but saints and that would be the difference between a saint and a sinner, even though the saints still sin. Would have to do a word study to check the validity of this.  We aren't something anymore, even though we still do the behavior that makes us that thing?