T. I. R. — Day Three

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**

Actually, it’s 8 minutes into Day Four of my week here in Jonesborough. But I’m still awake from this morning, so speaking circadianly, it’s still Day Three.

I test drove a brand new story today — “Thomas the Rhymer.” It has come together nicely. I think it’s the closest I’ve come to creating literature. I’m not claiming “great” literature. But the way it’s built, the way it mirrors and echoes itself, the patterns and motifs that bind it together takes it beyond a simple, straight narrative. This is a story that started almost exactly two years ago with a phone call from my aunt and ended with a champagne toast at her funeral four months later. I blogged about it as II experienced it. And then it lay like a cold stone inside of me until early this year. It’s a story birthed with the help of many midwives.

Tomorrow is Crone Day, and by popular request, I’m doing The Bob Mapplethorpe Memorial Condom Wallet.

It’s 12:30, Thursday morning. We had a heavy rain today. I think the lightning bugs are waterlogged. There are only a few of them, and their blinkage can only be described as desultory.

Sweet dreams…

**I love egregious typos!

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About megan hicks

The best parts of my life happen when I pull magic from thin air. That happens with the spoken word. The written word. Reclaiming trash in the material world. It's about recognition. Re-cognition. Learning fresh the truth I've always known. Seeing new potential as a result of a change in context. It's alchemy.
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