That Moment of Peace

The cats are fed, litterbox cleaned, and I’m sitting here with my coffee, with Finney purring on my lap and Buddy curled up nearby on the couch. I’ll get to work soon but I always begin my morning slowly, with a little bit of goofing off and puttering. It’s lovely. Then I start hating myself for not working more. I’ll argue with myself for a little while about my hateful-level. “You’re not so bad.” “Are too.” Reasons will be listed, counter-arguments made. Then I get to work.

I took this picture of a basement/below street level store window the other night on West 4th Street. It’s probably a nice normal children’s clothing store, but it looked a little creepy at night.

dolls

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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