As a diversion, there will be some fiction here. If Dickens could serialize his stuff, why can't I? Of course, that he was getting paid must've been nice. And that he was paid by the word must've been even nicer.
The first installment is awaiting a proper photograph to complement the start of things. I have an idea of what that photograph will be, but I haven't gotten it into my camera. Maybe on the morrow I shall get it there and then to here. I'm hopeful that other installments will be written fairly quickly, and during today's bike ride I came up with a couple bits of story line.
The grand work is titled Warm Whiskey in a Cold Ditch, a line from Madeleine Peyroux's CD Bare Bones, which I've been listening to for awhile.
So, stayed tune. Or don't.
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