Our farmhouse is cozy and rustic and quiet in the daytime. But in the middle of the night our only light comes from the stars, the radiators hiss and squeal, and strange animals fight to the death in the forest beyond our bedroom window. I have come to regret my early obsession with Truman Capote.
I awoke half-screaming at 1:30 this morning after a nightmare I don’t remember. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went downstairs, turned on all the lights, and camped out on the couch wrapped in a blanket with my kitties. Then I spent four hours overhauling my blog.
Nightmares are so productive!