Vacation has not meant physically vacating home or city. Instead, I have relaxed by writing. Writing sends me to a different place, a different time. Those excursions have meant becoming a concealed rodent in scenes where I don’t belong, but will feed me enough for that moment, that day.
Yesterday, 376 words. I needed a break from the pace. The day prior was 1,614. I have captured nearly 17 thousand words since going on holiday on 12/22. I don’t know how many of those words will be good to eat. Perhaps they are just the ingredients to a necessary stew, which is always better on the second day.