It has been raining all day. Other than a swim at the aquatic center, I've been stuck inside with a complaining cat. Rascal doesn't like rainy days either.
Finally, I had to get out. I dug out my best rain coat and set off down the dark streets, remembering to avoid the place where I fell down on the last rainy night. I set my mind to imagine that I was walking through the English countryside in a fine mist...instead of a miserable cold rain in small town in Wisconsin.
I do my best thinking on these walks, no matter what the weather is. A friend asked me if she could read the short story I am currently working on, but other than a few notes, the thing is stored in my brain. It will stay there, scrambled with other stray thoughts until the thing finally gels. Once I have it, I will type it up in about half an hour. There will be editing, of course, but the plot lines and characters will reach the computer almost complete.
Years ago, if I came up with something brilliant (hey, that's always a possibility!) that I didn't want to forget on these walks, I used to reach into a pocket for a notebook and pen. I move with the times. These days, I use my cell phone to call my land line phone and leave myself a message.
Tonight, I came home wet and happier with multiple messages on my answering machine.
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