I spoke to a woman from the Shire this evening. Her dog led
me to her. (Don’t they ever?) She was the first person I spoke to after I moved
here in May, 2006, and I remember thinking at the time that there was something
oddly familiar about her, and yet something else just as oddly mysterious. I had
the same feeling tonight, even though we haven’t spoken in 8½ years. She has a
way of looking at you which suggests she knows something you don’t, or maybe
has some kind of power that is not for your understanding. I have no doubt that it’s
all a product of my fertile and often feckless imagination, and yet life does
occasionally weave strange patterns.
Meanwhile, the ex-Priestess is re-defining sordid. I have no
reason to care, and so I choose not to.
It’s too early to be making this post. It belongs to the
post-midnight period when a different JJ inhabits a different universe and
doesn’t care who’s listening or how weird they think he is. Some mornings I
read posts I made late the previous night and wonder who the hell has been sitting
in my chair, eating my porridge.
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