a day like any other day

He writes well when nothing is bothering him. The back corner table at the Timothy's coffee shop at the underground level of the shopping arcade serves him just fine. It is dark there. That serves him fine too for today is raining. There is not light even if he were to go outside. So the dark corner serves him just fine. The ceiling light is a mini-chandelier with little candles for lights. The fire on the candles are little dim orange bulbs. He writes for two hours. All is good. Good.

He lets the day pass without thinking too much about it. He also plans to sleep well at night.

No fireworks. Nothing spectacular. Just some strawberry ice cream in the freezer and some fried cauliflowers for lunch and some soggy egg rolls for dinner. Enough to make him very very happy.

(melody)

Why have you to say goodbye... How have I loved you so...