THE NEW NOVEL

Everyone knows that Custer died at Little Bighorn. What my novel presupposes is, What if he didn't?

-- Eli Cash

NONFICTION

I bought a car battery and that worked for a while. Truth is I don't (or didn't, I should say) know much about the batter/alternator relationship. I was relieved when my Volvo fired up when I replaced the battery. It wasn't just that I found out last last night as I was trying to make it to the train station, but more on that in a minute.

OH EIGHT!

Someone just told me it was almost the end of this decade. Actually, it just turned 2008, so I guess he's wrong. It' more like, it's almost February. And if you are counting that means Tal is moving out soon. And if you don't know who Tal is you are not alone, which I am right now if you want to know the details. By alone I don't mean single and I don't necessarily mean by myself in this room. It's just that as I'm rat-ta-tap-tapping on these keys and as I squint my eyes to make the blur in my vision go away it's just that I don't notice anyone around. No one paying attention, you know? And maybe it's just sometimes. And maybe it's just that I'm not paying attention to others that are paying attention, maybe no one is getting the attention they wish to get. So I'm certain: that this mere element-- me feeling alone and whatnot --is some simple sign of mine that changes are underway. Don't know what or where or when or how regarding, say, just that I feel different. Somethings up. That's all I know and that's all I'm saying cause I don't know what else to say on the subject. Honestly. And that's that. How's that image up there look? You going to email me? Because people do that. They also call. I call. But not often. I mostly talk to people I run into. I light up, usually, when that happens. Especially if it's unexpected and I want to hear how they're doing. That happened this weekend. But doesn't often, often enough that is it seems. That's the truth and I'll go now.