I sent an article of to my favorite Revolutionary War webzine first thing this morning. Then it was so strange a little later--not a person in sight on the beach in the rain, from the Rock to North Point. I used one of the Pennsylvania anoraks with a knit hat under the hood and shoes waiting to be thrown out after I salvage the round shoestrings. The Pacific was loud. I just don't understand why no one else was out there. And now tonight the editor says the piece just needs a bit of work. Mercy! Maybe before I turn 80, an online publication. Now I need a board on the garage wall with several coat hooks on it so the rain can come as much as it wants to.
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