Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger

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the fact that coelacanths die now from eating plastic potato chip bags at the bottom of the ocean

It is 2:23 PM Sunday afternoon here in the city of the Dead. It is a cold rainy gray day. Carol left to visit her elderly friend Pam. I took Ollie for a walk in the rain. Now I am writing some words into my four online diaries. Existence keeps killing me softly. No one can hear the killer killing me. A silent killer is the most deadly of kind.

It has been a typical Sunday for me thus far. I have spent the day writing in my paper diary and reading the novel, 'Ducks, Newburyport' by Lucy Ellmann. I thought today there will be some professional football games to watch, but there are none broadcasting on our television channels, so I have spent the time reading and writing.

There is not much else to report. Carol went to church this morning and got home around 12:30 PM. I spent a quiet morning writing in my paper diary and reading 'Ducks, Newburyport'. So has gone by my life in the world of man.

Last night I watched college football and read from the novel, 'Ducks, Newburyport' by Lucy Ellmann. Carol went to bed early last night. I went to bed around 10:30 PM last night. Once again I slept poorly due to pain my left shoulder and left hand.

Tomorrow is a national holy day and our local library is closed, so the Book Nook will not be opened. I think Carol works tomorrow night.

Well I suppose I will close to drift. There is no way of escape.

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