How dreary can it get? Pretty damn, if today's any indication. Bob, I'm glad I'm not at that dinner. Creepy friends, but thank God the turkey's not dried out. And what makes him suspect that his house is burning? Cryptic.
Sept. 27--Write about a time the lights went out--They were watching TV after a supper of cheap frozen lasagna she'd bought at Aldi when the power went out. Sue listened for the wind. It wasn't storming. She looked across the darkened room to where Bernie sat like a beached walrus in his beloved faux leather recliner he'd brought home from his mother's trailer. The smallest bit of light filtered through the red and yellow maple leaves still clinging to the tree out front let her see the glitter of his eyes staring back at her. She put down her knitting and walked to the window. She stood looking up and down the street at all the windows glowing with light. "What did you lose the bill money on this time?" Even she heard the lack of emotion in her voice.
Damn that Bernie. This weather's giving me a headache. I think I'll try a nap.
--Barbara
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