January 8--John Henry Bradley Storrs, Forms in Space No. 1. The sun glinted off the copper and silver skin of the Art Deco skyscraper. Nola could feel the heat reflected back and the swirl of the wind as it buffeted the slick metal. Somewhere in that building lay her future, she knew it. She knew that she was meant to live and work here. She had dreamed of it. It had been so clear and vivid in her dream. She stood near the curb looking up when a dark-haired man got out of a cab and ran right into her. He caught her before she fell and she liked how his hands gripped her arms.
Meh. I was really sleepy because I stayed up too late--again. That's my excuse anyway. Enjoy your day. It's sunny here and it's supposed to get over freezing, just barely and it's supposed to be windy, but I'm going to knit and Skully's in a bit and I have a bag of stems to deliver to Henny & Penny so I'll be going now. Toodle-oo.