So, I was just sitting here, playing with my mouse, scrolling up and down the page, talking to myself, trying to figure out what to do next, wondering about whether I should start believing in something, clearing my throat, running my hand through my beard, thinking about how cool I am, considering reading some more, considering getting something to eat, something to drink, something to inhale, something to quash, or quell the queasiness, looking at the clock, looking at my cock, cocking my head to one side, and then the other, looking through smudged glasses, my fingers poised, ready to pounce when a thought, any thought appears ... HARK ... a thought.
It's raining. It has been for a few minutes. It's not raining heavy, but I can hear it falling, beating, whatevering on the roof.
I can hear the tv from the other room. I think it's a musical on Turner Classic Movies, but the music just stopped, so maybe it's a swashbuckling pirate movie with Basil Rathbone and Yvonne DeCarlo, and The Kids From Fame.
I just ran out of gas.
I can still hear the rain if that counts for anything.
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