Last night was kind of spooky.
I sat in bed, reading Peter Straub's Ghost Story to Lucky the cat (he seemed soothed by it) when suddenly Lucky's head jerked up, startled as he was by the sounds of coyotes howling outside. I did my best to calm him but an illusive air of menace seemed to hang about. I said to Lucky, "Something feels . . . evil . . . doesn't it, Lucky?"
I have a lot of things on my plate. I have to figure out what I'm gonna do about my tire and I have to think about school on Monday. I have to think about saving five dollars for the trolley.
There're other, secret things on my mind, too.
I last night dreamt I was in an enormous old mansion where a countess in the upstairs bedroom wanted me to kiss her.