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Home again...

Back in Phoenix, back in the apartment. My timing as plotted out beforehand was stellar -- I got off the airplane, got my baggage, got the bus to the other terminal, got the Red Line, went to Writing Group and got there just around 7:30, had dinner with the people afterwards, and now I'm home!

My cat missed me.

My room's a mess.

Stuff I dug up out of my Alaska room will be following me in boxes. (I kept saying "boxen" out loud to Mama, but that's only the correct plural for computers, so I kept having to correct myself.)

I wrote a little piece on phoenix-type multiples on the plane. Wouldn't you know, the writing group mini-write tonight was on our alter egos...

Fun was had by all.

I had 45 messages when I opened up my inbox. Only two or three were spam. (The bulk folder has 39. Eeek.)

P. gave me a ride home. easalle got her sparkle-sweater. (Definitely unseasonable for Phoenix...)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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