Tired

Image
Finishing Chapter 8. Halfway through but it’s an uphill climb. Need a break but afraid of stopping. 

Welcome, November

 “Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,

That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,

Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you

From seasons such as these?”

 (Shakespeare, “King Lear” III.IV.35ff)



Popular posts from this blog

"On Keeping A Notebook" by Joan Didion

The Island-Fish