Taciturn

Seven o’clock.

It’s a lot warmer out this morning and there’s rain in the forecast. I want to be more grounded in nature now rather than a kite in the atmosphere of philosophy. I don’t want to feel a mile high. The store should be open right now. I just heard a crow cawing to the east, out in the neighborhood. Aesop is asking me for something; it would be great if he could talk or if I were Dr Doolittle: even Snow White or Mary Poppins. But this is not realistic either. Funny how our wishes pollute our experience of the world; as if by believing something, we could make it true. Reality doesn’t yield before human language as in a story by Borges, although this point is debatable. More crows are raising a racket, but otherwise the Sunday morning is silent. My dog probably wants me to go to the store for his snacks. I never cared much for the sabbath day, especially when I had a job and dreaded going back on Monday. The other day I saw J— at the agency. I think something was wrong because she didn’t talk to anybody; just read a local paper and seemed to be waiting for something, perhaps an appointment. Usually she is very busy working in the optical office. I wanted to talk to her but she was closed and taciturn. She was as uncommunicative as the truth of nature… Any time now I’ll have the motivation to run to market. The rain is supposed to begin at around ten o’clock. I’ve got some time until that happens. 

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