Just now: I lit eight candles in the patch of grass in our backyard, north, south, etc. I sat in the center of the candles with a beer and a cigarette, under the full moon.
I was thinking of two things, simultaneously: I was thinking of going to Arizona in January, and I was thinking of setting something up at my farm in Tennessee.
And then: a slug climbed a blade of grass which, weighted, tipped it into one of the candles, and extinguished the south-west.
