I’m awake for what seems like a few days, and I’m staring out my window and eating new potatoes. I’m writing a story about sad rainbows.
There’s some song in the background, and it’s just piano, and I’m looking at my sad story on the computer screen and I’m sad. Maybe it’s the sad song on the radio, or the sadness in the rainbow that I’m writing about that makes me sad. I’m not exactly sure.
But I do know the piano is the perfect accompaniment to this rainbow coming into my window. The same sad rainbow I’m writing about. The one that shoots out sadness all over Houston, into the houses of divorcees and drug abusers, and the kids who are doing poorly in school. It shoots into our windows.
Those people and me, us, that’s why I’m writing this story about sad rainbows. I guess. I mean, it’s really about everyone getting sad, at some time or another, but whatever. Right now I just want to stare at this sad rainbow that’s pouring into my window, and finish these new potatoes. That’s all I’ve got left to do.