A thousand words

Lacking the mental strength to string more then a few guttural grunts together, I beg leave of this space to find solace in the pages of a book, the crook of an arm, the warmth of soft fur scrunched gently by my toes, the spicy vapours of a warm drink. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we shall play with sounds. Tomorrow or the next day we shall dance with the constantans, fluff them out with vowels and twirl them into sentences. For now, I leave you a thousand words.