Sunday afternoon: the doldrums
Jan. 12th, 2003 02:56 pmOn Sunday afternoons, I cannot work.
The sunlight takes on this particular heavy, tawdry quality, the same quality of light that you get in films from the 70s; it makes everything seem flat and garish and absolutely petty. Nothing matters on Sunday afternoons, and my mouth tastes of cotton and dust.
On Sunday afternoons, I wish for rain.
The sunlight takes on this particular heavy, tawdry quality, the same quality of light that you get in films from the 70s; it makes everything seem flat and garish and absolutely petty. Nothing matters on Sunday afternoons, and my mouth tastes of cotton and dust.
On Sunday afternoons, I wish for rain.