SUNDAY: ABOUT WRATH

Saturday was good; suspiciously so. On Sunday I ran five miles on a twisted ankle and suffered horrible heartburn from too much summer sausage. It was folly to run on an injury after consuming such a vast quantity of encased meat, I know, but it put me in very ugly mood all the same. I had to do everything I could to keep from throwing baleful glances at puppies and pushing small children into mud puddles.

In fact, I was in such a cantankerous mood that I had to throw myself out of the house like a live grenade. There simply wasn't enough room for me, The Steady, and my Big Fat Cranky Rain Cloud! I biked seven miles to an old, familiar bookstore and I sat in the company of books.

I love the way they sit, inert, quiet, and without judgment.