I no longer tell myself stories in bed while drifting off and drifting awake, alas. But I have a... what to call it? half-conscious scenario that I sometimes see at those times. I'm living in the north somewhere- not the north of Canada, a European or maybe British north. A city, certainly, somewhere grey and chill and possibly rainy. But I'm indoors with my flatmate? sig.oth? having tea, and there are books in the flat, and the paraphernalia of the craft/ artistic stuff one of us does, or maybe both of us. And I finally realized today that this was an echo of Tove Jannsson, which I think is neat, however it came to be lodged in my subconscious.
Return of the special weather statement
I no longer tell myself stories in bed while drifting off and drifting awake, alas. But I have a... what to call it? half-conscious scenario that I sometimes see at those times. I'm living in the north somewhere- not the north of Canada, a European or maybe British north. A city, certainly, somewhere grey and chill and possibly rainy. But I'm indoors with my flatmate? sig.oth? having tea, and there are books in the flat, and the paraphernalia of the craft/ artistic stuff one of us does, or maybe both of us. And I finally realized today that this was an echo of Tove Jannsson, which I think is neat, however it came to be lodged in my subconscious.
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