Fortunately there must be a rule requiring the work to knock off at 11 PM. The top of the hour's passed and now I just have the radiator hissing and some voices in the distance to distract me. With some luck, Chloe (the small white ruffian who lives next door) will not decide to fill the void of relative quiet with barking. I've got poems to revise before bed. Now that the metronome beating concrete has subsided, we'll see if I can avoid any other self-imposed distractions.
Time for a fresh take
8 years ago
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