Sorting thoughts and memories whenever paraesthesiae strikes — that prickling rumpus on your skin that you just have to scratch, scrape and scuff — and cannot leave well enough alone, scrubbing at that tingling sensation that refuses to recede. Nope, not a medical condition, just the itch to write. Photo taken aboard a Staten Island Ferry with Manhattan's skyline in the background.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Sign of the Times?
This picture is not mine. It was just sent to me by a friend who read
my "Romancing the English language" article. She asked me to romance
this one, too.
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