Monday

The hamsters in the house chew on the cage bars in bites of rapid-fire succession. Then, when they're finished chewing on their bars, they run in their wheels. Of course, they sleep. But they sleep when we forget that they are not being annoying. Change is in the air today. The weather is crisp, the sun is bright, and it is getting colder, among other changes.
I've been reading a novel, "The Gargoyle," by Andrew Davidson. I am about a third of the way through the book. It started out that a burn patient is recovering in a hospital. Now that I'm one-third of the way through it, it's still about a burn patient recovering in the hospital. I'm at the point in the book where I have to decide whether I'm going to assume that it's a slow buildup leading to a grand, cataclysmic, meaningful ending, as I was promised; or if I'll be waiting for something more and it never comes. If I consciously or even subconsciously assume the latter, the remaining two-thirds will remain unread, forever. I'm willing to keep going, for the time being, but I hope I'm not sorry about it.