Buried memories surface, writing my new novel.  It’s complicated, exploring the caverns of my emotions and then moving through the rest of my day upright on top of the earth.  I just bought a firm mattress.  Well, the word firm is a misnomer.  I sleep on a slate of rock coils covered with skinny smooth fabric, much like hard crushed stone in the desert, dusted in sand.  I can stretch and move all night.  My back no longer hurts.  In my study, my writing chair is filled with plump pillows, thick and soft.  Two worlds.  Two different comforts.    

This entry was posted on Monday, April 23rd, 2007 at 10:01 pm and is filed under David's Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.