(no subject)

[clayhornik]

Tonight, after work, I got 500 words done on The Novel. I took a leisurely stroll home, where upon I saw: a bug that fluttered so in the light, I might have mistaken it for a faery, were I so inclined, a shooting star, and a lightining bug. I made a wish on the shooting star, one not likely to come true, but really, isn't that the point of wishes? I looked at big houses, the kind I would live in would I win the lottery. And I heard gunshots. Oddly enough, that didn't detract from the magic.