OVERCAST DAY AND SILENT BOOMER

My wife on New Year's Day bought a car that looks just like the one to your left. Recently, another short story was rejected of the four I sent off with very high hopes. Two remain out in the world unaccounted for. 

My spirits aren't very high today, but it has nothing to do with rejections. I didn't sleep well last night. When I'm tired, my experience is that negativity can get a foot in the door and kick my ass, but the work on my science fiction film script continues apace. Today was productive. Will wait patiently for tomorrow.

Speaking of low spirits, off in the corner of the coffee shop I'm writing in, two men are talking loudly about their ideas about their god. One's voice is labored and stumbling. His voice is precisely the voice, intonation and rhythms of a young child repeating to a parent what he has learned in Sunday school, but the man's in his 70s or 80s. Of course, his way of speaking might be the result of a stroke. It's that halting and labored. Makes me very sad about fundamentalist religious folk. And fearful too. 

My current reading is Yukio Mishima's The Sound of Waves.