Thursday, November 29, 2007
Last night I was alone in the house, in the bed, for the first time when the rain began. It came quick and heavy. The wind moved through the pines in the back. The trains and the rain on the tin roof were like a banjo number. "...Gonna die with a hammer in my hand." I switched on the light and wrote down, "John Henry and Casey Jones are crying like lovers in the hallway."