Not because of having to go to school/work etc, but simply because the group has to split up and go their separate ways today. Michael is already in the air above our heads. I note another bright morning sunrise slightly resentfully due to a mild headache and sore throat, but pick up the computer even though it is only 6:30am. Reading aloud posts and comments from friends on 6S to Mum, and exclaiming over a bunch of trite comments. My excuse is that "writers" (and how sweet to call myself that from the glow of a writers convention) have to be observant and pick up on the absurd to fuel their creative engines; but the truth is, I just like bitching at times, most times ;)
Yesterday afternoon was spent in the bar downstairs, because it is the best place to meet and chat, paper tumblerfuls of whisky, showing purchases (books, what else), Mike photographs Michael for a future art piece, we write bon mots into each others notebooks, and above all, chat. The afternoon draws into evening as we head out again, food and wine and conversation swirling around the table; and then we swirl into the crowds on Bourbon Street. The muted colours of daytime are a different place, noise and neon are the themes now. Drink and flesh on display everywhere, booming club music replacing the gentler (but somehow more alive) Jazz. We drank from our paper cups and observed the good natured revelry, and then retired to a room for refills and more talk into the night...
Dulled tired eyes above
the laptop screen, the boozy
night gets its revenge.
