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PostPosted: Tue Nov 10, 2015 9:24 pm
  

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BlunderVirgin

Joined: Nov 10, 2015
Posts: 6
The weather report called for

torrential rain today.

I put on my plastic mac

and set my pinking shears in neutral.

There was a knock at the door.

It was just a man looking for his nose.

Funny how those things go missing sometimes.

We looked for awhile & discovered it was in his shirt pocket.

We both laughed & I went back to my

Book.

I am reading a book with no words.

It is an easy read but so far not that interesting.

It is a work by a famous surrealist

whose name escapes me at the moment.

It has an arresting title however:

"A Predilection For Storms"

It is a very long book.

I hope to finish reading it by Sunday.

The rain started

with a clap of thunder.

My cat walked in the room

jumped on my lap

and made herself comfortable.

The rain was soothing

and made me think of my book.

I read the second chapter

but not much seemed to occur.

Perhaps by the fourth chapter

the story may begin to jell,

I thought.

I fell asleep with my cat

and dreamt of books with no words

and of writers with so much to say

but words failed them.

The rain told me the tale

as I slept.

I finished the book

in chapter three of my dream.

It was a good book

about

rain.


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