b r e a t h i n g
r o o m
31 May 98
Nick finished his short story Fever Blister and I managed to sort all my bits and pieces into the outline structure I wrote yesterday. Suddenly, I'm feeling like a great weight is off. Of course I can do this, I see it now. Briggs, exhausted from her forays into old journals yesterday, lost herself in the yard, first doing needed tasks and then doing the stuff that she enjoys.
I also managed to write up a bit about skinny legmen based on a conversation with Nick after brunch (I made waffles).
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