No red ink, nothing in black or blue. No postcards, no envelopes, no letters. No news is fine. I want to send word to WI and MI, give them a heads up in case I find a courier to run the route for me. But we agreed, no calls ever and I would never write them unless it was a fucking emergency. And right now I'd just be running off a hunch, so no go, slowpoke.
It should be a no go, because that's what we agreed to. But summer's got me off balance. Summer's got me off balance bad. I keep wanting to call zoe and...fuckit. Moving on. Moving on.
~
Stopped for a quick coffee after my walkabout. Tried to sketch two maps from memory, horns marking birds of paradise. Both from summer. Both...somewhat sanitized. The horns are there but they're not calling out - there's nothing out there to receive. If I were sketching in the distillery area maybe then, but that's not a theory I'm too keen to try. Without Maya around it'd be a suicide run.
One sketch died - jittery nerves. Had a cigarette and tried again. Worked, for the most part.
(bird of paradise 1)
(bird of paradise 2)
Okay. Okay. Feel better now. Temporary reprieve, but still. The pieces fit. The patterns hold. Not...pretty (all those teeth), but these two memory maps are stable. I'll take the win.
~
Shit. Maya wants a meet now?
Wait, no, she wants to do a practice run? At the distillery?
I know we agreed to not schedule these things but I just came back from there...argh.
I hate traceurs.
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