Write about the cloud was the suggestion, and in any time but our own that could only have meant one thing. My offering, in Reading Room, comes with a twist. And after writing last month about clouds pink and blue, I find myself now searching the sky for any cloud at all, not least the thin edge of the wedge that portends rain.
Today I workshopped with in a small distant group. It was good to get my head out poked of my rut and to nudge others out of theirs. It felt like a friendly game of cards – you know the ones – social, turn-taking, chatty, but calculated, not leaving things entirely to chance.