My perspective is so narrow right now, I have sat alone in this room too long. It is almost impossible to think of anything beyond that which sits on my desk…or my walls…this empty glass of wine could trigger some romantic memory perhaps or pain me with the taste of heartache. I suppose this isolation could be an issue worth mentioning but then again, not such a unique problem for those with a pen in their hand and a need to use it.

I live in the desert and there are two ducks who have taken residence in a small crater in my front lawn which fills with water several times a day. They hold their heads high as if showing off the upper-most balcony of their newly-acquired mansion. He looks at her often to be sure she is safe or maybe just because he thinks she is the most beautiful girl on earth. She looks straight ahead, confident, knowing nothing but contentedness from the warmth of being adored. They seem to be entirely devoted to each other. My envy is sinful.