The light’s red.
The Slipknot song is giving me dark thoughts.
I pull out the moleskin and pen I have stashed in the passenger seat pocket.
“Feed the devil, too. Lest his hunger eat you alive.”
I’m in between consciousness and sleep.
Boy, am I the living embodiment of “a penny saved is a penny earned” adage.
I fumble around my nightstand for the spiral notebook and inscribe the brilliance of the night’s hypnagogia – a word I discovered whilst writing this piece.
“Saved money on cover charges and bar tabs.”
I’m making dinner. Salmon on my fingers.
I think of something cool.
“Oh, that’s this week’s newsletter,” I say.
I don’t have a notebook in the kitchen.
I finish the salmon. I wash my hands. I eat my dinner. I forget the cool thing I thought.
“There’s a lesson in this,” I tell myself.
