I knelt in the green grass, watching Weyland Smith limp around the massive base of the black iron bridge, sucking his teeth, naked and carrying an iron hammer.
Chapter 23 is done. Commencing chapter 24. The bound galleys came today. *pets*
Here, have a Richard Brautigan poem:
(my favorite bit is the bit about the snails)
IT’S RAINING IN LOVE
I don’t know what it is,
But I distrust myself
When I start to like a girl
It makes me nervous.
I don’t say the right things
Or perhaps I start
What I am saying.
If I say, "Do you think it’s going to rain?"
and she says, "I don’t know,"
I start thinking: Does she really like me?
In other words
I get a little creepy.
A friend of mine once said,
"It’s twenty times better to be friends
than it is to be in love with them."
I think he’s right and besides,
its raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That’s all taken care of.
if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it’s going to rain?"
and I say, "It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it’s you, baby, this time
Instead of me.