blob: e64f4a68746c9b68e00a5eb234b31c879f787059 (
plain)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
|
<!DOCTYPE html>
<!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents -->
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="utf-8">
<meta name="generator" content="pandoc">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0, user-scalable=yes">
<meta name="author" content="Case Duckworth">
<!-- more meta tags here -->
<title>Leaf | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="_common.css">
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="_prose.css">
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="_paul.css">
<!--[if lt IE 9]>
<script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
<![endif]-->
</head>
<body>
<header>
<!-- title -->
<h1 class="title">Leaf</h1>
</header>
<section class="prose">
<p>He shrugged the wood off his shoulder, letting it fall with a clog onto the earth floor of his Writing Shack. He exhaled looking out of the window. He hoped to see a bird fly by, maybe a blue jay or raven. No bird did. He inhaled. He exhaled again in a way that could only be classified as a sigh. He sat down at his writing desk. He began shuffling through what he’d written, trying to find some sort of pattern.</p>
<p>“<em>Each piece of paper—each leaf—</em>” at this he smiled— “<em>is like a tree in the forest.</em>” He was writing as he thought aloud. “<em>I, as the artist, as the <strong>writer</strong>, must select which to use, chop down those trees, bring them back to my shed and</em>—and—” he frowned as he realized the only end to this metaphor was fire. He ran his fingers through his hair in a self-soothing gesture.</p>
<p>“I need to build some furniture” he thought.</p>
</section>
<nav>
<a href="writing.html">Writing ></a>
<a href="leg.html">Leg ></a>
</nav>
</body>
</html>
|