When the Sun Comes.

It's hot in my room right now, though it's almost seven o'clock. The sun bears down through the windows, and I sip a Utica Club and think about finding shelter in the living room. The lights aren't even on in the living room.

Truman keeps climbing up from the bed to my chair to be pet, so I indulge.

It's a bit warm in here, like I said, so I think I'm going to head out. Good talking to you.

Lastly, another day, another hundred words.