Tonight is new physical year's eve.
I had a manager who called it that.
Couldn't he read?
He used to
talk about what a good writer he was, back in the day.
I am going to quit
drinking coffee and go on a diet tomorrow.
See how long I last.
Jack
Reacher wouldn't let himself get up to 285 lb.
* * *
The writing was going well, on Old Folks's LDA grant.
He told Brenda,
"You're going to miss me when I'm gone."
"You're going to
say, `Maybe he wasn't so bad.'"
She said, "You aren't so
bad. Except that all you do is write."
* * *
Maybe Old Folks needed to do more than write.
Maybe he needed to
get in shape, physically.
A sound mind in a sound body.
Maybe his
memory would improve, if he started exercising.
He couldn't remember the
name of his horse.
Did he have a horse?