Hot rocks and cheap water

The fire is burning, blue at the heart and orange-yellow at the top of the raspy flames. The rocks and cage are turning red like a furnace. Light blue jeans hang from a rack in front of the fire, as well as still-dirty socks and another item, hanging from a clothes-hanger on the clothes rack. Probably the jeans are still a little damp from the washing machine. 

 They got very dirty yesterday, mud up to the knees. It looked like the person wearing them had been walking in mud knee-deep, but really it was mostly from dirty water shot up at them while biking. Behind a couch to the right there is still a pair of very dirty running shoes, also worn that day. Unlike the jeans, their muddiness is owing almost entirely to really stepping in deep, marshy mud. 

 The jeans, on the other hand, are looking surprisingly fresh and clean. The washing machine worked wonders on them, but the socks weren’t so lucky.

 To the left is a lamp, and a depleted cup of tea (chamomile — only because it’s late and it doesn’t have caffeine). To balance that out, to the right is a 2L bottle of Sainsbury’s Caledonian Still water (the cheapest you can get).

 The overall effect is a warm room, and sufficient hydration. Perfect conditions for writing. 

So, here’s what I’ve got: “All you need is love, peace, happiness.” The kind of thought that seems deep when you’re zoning out but not scratching below the surface. The kind of revelation that collapses in upon itself, a reference unto itself. The room is warm but fatigue both creates and masks the inability to have ruminous thoughts worthy of ravinous readers. 

Had a good sandwich thing today. More details later.

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