Today, the entire city is a black-lagoon. I am merely one scaly creature, slithering my way down Interstate 394. The sky is some kind of oppressive black curtain that doesn’t quite touch the white fuzzy line of the horizon.
But somehow this has only served to brighten my spirits. Either that, or the pendulum of my manic-depression has swooshed onto the manic end of the spectrum–and I’m just at the mercy of various self-created brain-altering chemicals tinting this ugly day a brighter shade of pleasant…
Either way, it’s a good day, but still too early.