My bookshop is on the far end of this street, but here, at the end closer to home, I come every Friday night for dance class. This Friday, there was dance, take-away noodles and honey chicken wings from NJoi, beer, chocolate cake. We came home to the locksmith fixing our front door, and then stayed home to pass the new keys off to neighbours.
My weekends begin on Friday mornings, so there is one more day in the weekend left for me. Next weekend, it will be March. I’m excited, ready for the unfolding. There are things waiting to happen. But tonight, there are words, The Words, these words. And people to read them, to see them, to give them life and let them sing. I’ll try to grasp them and then hold them in my hands. One day, these hands will be wings and there will be air and breath beneath them. Tonight, sleep is on the edge of my fingertips, and tomorrow is almost already today.