The Snowflake Chronicles

August 6, 2013

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Need coffee!

Tuesday Afternoon in Las Vegas

Fiḍ'l (Grace), 6 Kam'l (Perfection), 170 BE - Tuesday, August 6, 2013 about 12:57 PM Pacific Time

The postman just delivered the mail and I am about out of iced coffee. I should get up from this computer and pick up the letters or more likely junk mail he just stuck through the mail slot in the front door. I am not looking forward to seeing what the postman brought today, but it could be something important.

Tuesday afternoon
wind blowing and sky hazy
sun cast dark shadows

I need another cup of iced coffee or maybe a cold soda. The problem is that I do not want to get up. The only thing I want to do is write. I keep looking out the window to see if I can get an idea for another haiku or perhaps a story. The only things I see outside are cars driving by or the wind blowing through a neighbor's olive tree.

blow dryer effect
triple digit temperatures
a hazy blue sky

This afternoon, the wind is variable. I can tell which way the wind is blowing by looking at the American flag flying in front of my neighbor's house. I do not think the wind is blowing more then two or three miles an hour; however, I have not listened to the news or checked the weather online, so the wind could be blowing faster or slower.

Las Vegas summer
wind blue skies and sometime clouds
always hot outside

An Afternoon Nap Refreshes a Writer
An afternoon nap
a refreshing retreat
rest both mind and muse.

I took a short nap this afternoon. I sit down on the couch and I fell asleep sitting up. Normally this is not the best way to take a nap, but today it was refreshing. I do not know how long I slept. I do not remember dreaming. The doorbell woke me up.

The doorbell ring once. It was a long single ring and it woke me up. There was no one on the front porch and no notes stuck in the screen door. I suppose the doorbell could have been a dream, but it sounded so real that it woke me up. This happens every once in a while, but usually at night.

I think I have gotten used to the doorbell ringing at weird hours, so it does not bother me anymore. I used to worry about it; however, now I just take it as another odd or weird occurrence in my otherwise mundane life. I think I should use the doorbell ringing as part of a story. Perhaps my muse is attempting to send me a message for a plot, which I have ignored.