Routines.

You would think a town called Lorton (which consists of townhouses, a brand-new high school, a CVS, and a very old prison) would be full of lurking surreality, but apparently Anson county is far more fertile ground.

It's all in the little things: like when I wake up at 8AM, eat a banana for breakfast, watch the news until I get sick of Nancy Grace, sit on the balcony and read until it gets too hot (9:30AM), realize that the day isn't even close to half-over, and, in fact, it won't get completely dark until 9:00PM or so, and make eye contact with the dog . . .


. . . who is clearly saying, "Please put me in the car and drive us off a cliff."

(More to come--Natural History Museum--but I wanted to show that I figured out my username and password!)