Feathers dripping dry from the drainspout with a new thought on his lips: this is tedious.

Some clunking machine at the coffeeshop is in perfect sync with the pop song playing on the sound system.

Oops! The magic smoke has arisen from the tweeter.

No space for space

I don’t hate fun… …I think?

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

away from keyboard, chair, life, etc