meet but not met

i actually did meet uncle shelby, years ago, right here in my then own little burg but although i went to the book signing…i wasn’t young but hoping i was so young for him he’d give me a look…he talked almost more about his much younger than me new bride and his new baby than he did about his books

he was so in love i didn’t even give it a try, besides it was at a kid’s book store not a bar.

sigh…i sigh a lot

wore make up and everything

i did however get my book signed with a little line drawing but i sold it on ebay.

not because i was dissapointed…although that was true

but sold it years later…

because i needed the money

dear uncle, i always entitle my scratch word pages ABZ

love you and the slithergadee if that is how it is spelled…sold that book too

good night irene

***small case thoughts***

THOUGHTS IN THE DARK OF MIDNIGHT

when the hours are wee and small

  it occurs to me that sometimes anger is just another form of tears but that i’d rather defend my anger than expose my tears…..

 unfortunately i usually do it all; shout, defend, cry.

 

 

If you’re not careful you’ll trip on the cracks in the ceiling.

 If i could make one good decision for each twenty bad decisions, i’d be so far ahead of this game; i’d be winning.

 i hate tax time.

 i hate old cars.

 i hate my birthday.

 my ankle hurts.

 i’m so tired but i’m afraid of the dark,

also there are so many kittens in my bed and they jump on my toes…they look like pin cushions…my toes not the catz.

 i wish i’d met Uncle Shelby…..sigh

 nighty byes.

 Oh ps I wish people who actually know me wouldn’t call me at 7:30 in the morning, especially when i’m in insomnia mode and it is not an emergency.

but then how can they know? about the insomnia mode not the emergency

 going back to bed; good night chet..good night david or verse visa

 

the end