I think I'm almost over my cold.
Words today: 512
Total words: 18429Tyop du jour: ocdensation
Favorite line: Gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the parking lot, the cicadas picking up their song again after I shut my engine off. The sun beat mercilessly on the dusty gravel, brown weeds poking through where the rocks had worn thin. In the distance, I could hear the blaring horn of a train, but the tracks that ran in front of the building stood empty. Beyond the tracks, the waters of the French Broad River rippled in the sunlight.
