Semi-Daily Scribbles

The sun is setting on this Wednesday evening. My eyelids are heavy and my stomach is saying things I’d rather not hear. I believe there’s quite a bit of that going around. Wind is whipping up around my door and creating a clanging racket in my firebox. The barks of dogs fill the empty space between the swirling gusts and excitable birds. And now the smell of toasted bread distracts me as I melt into my chair and go all soft around the edges.