Monday, December 28, 2015

Night came, and the moon with it

The last few days have brought rain at night and spectacular clouds
on the Daily Walk. This is from yesterday's Walk.
Today had surprises, and after all, no room for the Walk.

Today's mail brought me a new book by my favorite, Mary Ruefle. 
I am sorry to have to report that the soft creamy, art-paper cover 
as on her other books is no more. We have instead a nice 
orangey-red with white sort-of-handwriting that one cannot read 
running parallel to the spine of the book. But Mary is still inside, 
and I am looking forward to a few nourishing reads.


The classroom was dark, all the desks were empty,
and the sentence on the board was frightened to
find itself alone. The sentence wanted someone to
read it, the sentence thought it was a fine sentence, a
noble, thorough sentence, perhaps a sentence of
some importance, made of chalk dust, yes, but a sen-
tance that contained within itself a certain swirl not
unlike the nebulous heart of the unknown universe,
but if no one read it, how could it be sure? Perhaps it
was a dull sentence and that was why everyone had
left the room and turned out the lights. Night came, 
and the moon with it. The sentence sat on the board
and shone. It was beautiful to look at, but no one
read it.

Mary Ruefle      (born 1952)

THE MOST OF IT. Wave Books, 2008, page 55.

One thing I noticed about typing this is that the linebreaks
are very useful, giving a little shot of importance to words
at the ends or especially at the beginnings of lines. 
One task for us might be to try typing paragraphs of
our writing, or journal writing, to a certain point, and 
then breaking the line. One could look to similar sized lines,
as here, or . . .?  jhh

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