As the rectangle of sun travels over the carpet, right to left, Simon follows. He is a slave to direct sunlight. OMG I THINK I SAW THAT IN A GARFIELD CARTOON ONCE.

I wrote last night:

“The only thing he remembered, before it all came back to him, was a dream he had while lying on the operating table. Floating on his back down a dark and bottomless river. A swarm of mosquitoes diving toward his ears. The keening of their diaphanous wings, needle-shaped mouths salivating, searching for a place to land so they could drain him dry.”

I hate mosquitoes and I hate when they invade my dreams with their whiny wings just before they feast on my blood. Bitches.

Leaves in the back yard have turned a pale orange color. The pot of marigolds on the porch turned black. I’ll have to throw them out. But everything else in the yard should be fine through the winter, as far as I can tell. Oh shit except I bet we’ll have to rake those leaves up once they fall.

We’re going to West Seattle tomorrow! And it’s going to be sunny!