Blank

Tonight I feel totally wordless. I would like to say something interesting or profound or at least funny but nothing comes to me. I would also wish to be energetic. Instead my bum feels glued to the easy chair. It is a gray, quiet evening outside and I only hear the sound of children laughing as they jump on their trampoline across the street. I wish I could describe this evening, or anything, as beautifully as Nathaniel Hawthorne "Bartram the lime-burner, a rough, heavy-looking man, begrimed with charcoal, sat watching his kiln at nightfall, while his little son played at building houses with the scattered fragments of marble, when, on the hill-side below them, they heard a roar of laughter, not mirthful, but slow, and even solemn, like a wind shaking the boughs of the forest."
I love his long sentences that flow and move and draw me into some special place and moment that I feel I know but could not set words to on my own.