We took Mazy for a long walk yesterday out in the country. I felt bad because I forgot to bring poop bags and for the first time ever, she took a shit on a walk. Go figure. The way the universe works. It likes to come at you when you’re most unprepared.

Call it training for forgiveness. I do still feel guilty. Mazy’s a hundred pounds; it looks like some dude squatted and let loose. Trying to be nice is hard; being prepared is, I suppose, a prerequisite.

Assume the worse, expect nothing; aim for everything.

That’s the rule.

Today, we bake hams, make salads and devilled eggs, and enjoy the company of blood.

Always a pleasant evening, if a bit too formal for me. It’s the obligation of the holiday that bores me.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 107 words, novel: Father Lightning