It's kind of crazy. I go to bed each night with a little bit of worry over the words I've let loose. Nouns and verbs and other linking bits, forming ideas and images meant to be pretty, meant to be funny, meant to be interesting. These words are linked to me, just as my name is linked to Stereophile, and it all comes with
Autumn came without calling first. It snuck its way in through the cracks of my old kitchen windows and made itself at home. I've asked it to spend nights on my orange couch, but, while I sleep, it comes into my bed and hogs all the blankets. It's cold in my apartment.