Bad. The Doors roar and jangle in the background. My stomach sours from coffee, caffeine builds up in the back of my head. Suzanne is gone, in the kitchen the dirty dishes in the sink are soaking up water. “Impending doom” as usual. Why am I so sensitive? The slightest thing throws me off track. Yet the day seemed to start quite well.
– James Steerforth (© 1993/2022)
Steer Forth! 