I sat at my picnic table, a large cup of coffee on hand. The air was cool. I like this time. The world is not yet awake. The sun hasn't shown its face. People have not yet invaded my world. I imagine this to be the best kind of morning there ever can be.
My stomach is doing its usual battle, trying to knock me out of the workforce yet another morning. I'll win this one. I usually do. I make a promise to myself to work on the manuscript tonight. I didn't do it last night. I was doing ... other things.
It's a little after five when I finally go back in the house. Going to shave my head. I put Goblin on the stereo. The theme from Suspiria, with its deep, prophetic bass, is pouring into the bathroom as I engage the clippers. Soon I'll shower and try to destroy another day before it destroys me. Don't know if I'll succeed. That's the good feeling. I would not want to go into every day knowing just how I'll react to a given situation.
Heard those words again last night ... after the evil. "Just walk away." Can't do that yet. Eventually ...
The second cup of coffee seems more bitter. Of course, it could be that the sun is up and the noise of the day has begun. That puts the bitterness in perspective.
Just walk away.
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