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-rw-r--r--planks.html39
1 files changed, 19 insertions, 20 deletions
diff --git a/planks.html b/planks.html index e9004d6..d1b5b79 100644 --- a/planks.html +++ b/planks.html
@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
1<!DOCTYPE html> 1<!DOCTYPE html>
2<!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents --> 2<!-- AUTOCENTO OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE -->
3<!-- vim: fdm=indent -->
3<html lang="en"> 4<html lang="en">
4<head> 5<head>
5 <meta charset="utf-8"> 6 <meta charset="utf-8">
@@ -23,26 +24,24 @@
23 <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> 24 <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> -->
24 </head> 25 </head>
25<body> 26<body>
27
28 <article id="container">
29 <header>
30 <!-- title -->
31 <h1 class="title">Planks</h1>
32
26 33
27<article id="container"> 34 </header>
28 <header>
29 <!-- title -->
30 <h1 class="title">Planks</h1>
31
32
33
34 </header>
35
36 <section class="content prose">
37 <blockquote>
38 <p><a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING</a> <a href="howtoread.html">STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
39 </blockquote>
40 <p>This sat alone on a blank notecard in Paul’s typewriter. He stared at it, sipping at his too-hot coffee. This made sense to him.</p>
41 <p>He looked at the spot on the wall where he wanted a window to be, at the rough planks above his desk as they were lit by the bare hanging lightbulb. He sipped his coffee again. It was still too hot. His Woodworking Shack was becoming full of wood that was not furniture. He feared it would never become so.</p>
42 <p>He threw open the door to the snow and the ground below it. He reached for his axe on the wall. He reconsidered. He took a few tentative steps onto the <a href="in-bed.html">blankness</a> on his own. He wasn’t cold, not yet. He walked into the forest. The snow crunched under his feet and <a href="last-passenger.html">did not echo</a>.</p>
43 </section>
44</article>
45 35
36 <section class="content prose">
37 <blockquote>
38 <p><a href="swear.html">EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING</a> <a href="howtoread.html">STAYS THE SAME</a></p>
39 </blockquote>
40 <p>This sat alone on a blank notecard in Paul’s typewriter. He stared at it, sipping at his too-hot coffee. This made sense to him.</p>
41 <p>He looked at the spot on the wall where he wanted a window to be, at the rough planks above his desk as they were lit by the bare hanging lightbulb. He sipped his coffee again. It was still too hot. His Woodworking Shack was becoming full of wood that was not furniture. He feared it would never become so.</p>
42 <p>He threw open the door to the snow and the ground below it. He reached for his axe on the wall. He reconsidered. He took a few tentative steps onto the <a href="in-bed.html">blankness</a> on his own. He wasn’t cold, not yet. He walked into the forest. The snow crunched under his feet and <a href="last-passenger.html">did not echo</a>.</p>
43 </section>
44 </article>
46 <nav> 45 <nav>
47 <a class="prevlink" href="leg.html" 46 <a class="prevlink" href="leg.html"
48 title="Next article in Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"> 47 title="Next article in Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods">
@@ -62,5 +61,5 @@
62 Punch 61 Punch
63 </a> 62 </a>
64 </nav> 63 </nav>
65</body> 64 </body>
66</html> 65</html>