The smell of rain is invading my room. There’s a word for it. James told me once. I can enjoy the fresh air without a clinical name though. The wash of cars going past and sending waves throught he puddles is calming. I’m not worried about running late, though I should be. For the past three hours I’ve been waiting for Ian and Ethan to show up. I have my tranchcoat laid out against the weather. As if to spite all conventions, I’ve even put on socks.
This week starts the Fringe. Today, in fact and I’m blowing it off for Victorias party. I’m not sure how certain folk will feel about that. It’s going to be sordid, darlings. Divorce is alway smessy.