Tincture
I regard everything with irony, including the face I see in the mirror when I wake up in the morning.
Another day that I never got out of the office. It feels like things are about to start happening, but there’s a Peckinpah, slow-motion theme.
Home alone - Claire’s out with Cheryl. I top up the Valerian tincture with vodka, feed the snake, manhandle the apple juice downstairs in preparation for brewing.
Tomorrow: wind and rain.
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