If nothing else, attempting posts off this computer teaches me home is best. Home computer, that is. The one where private/public writing, completed fiction, photos and drafts co-exist and I can navigate from one to the other. In other words, there’s need for a back stage, prop and dressing rooms, none of which exist on a borrowed computer. Another world, filled with other people’s lives. What those suggest for writing purposes needs to settle. No way can one set of characters live truthfully in other people’s circumstances. Except as an exercise in strangeness.
A large spider appears on the wall above this computer. By large, I mean of exceptional leg and body width. I watch it. It watches movements for its own purposes. Intruder in a spider’s home base. Hallo. Good-bye.