literal

I literally* took only two photos today. This is the other one^. I haven't been this photographically unproductive since being sick last, which is quite odd as I have been feeling, for the latter part of the day, as if I am working towards another bout of something. Though, the winds here have been atrocious, blowing all kinds of lovely pollutants, natural and unnatural, in from who knows where. I am hoping it is just that. And nothing more.

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*Personally, I aim to use this word sparingly and appropriately; my insides cringe when others don't. Take, for example, the jag-off in one of my courses, they're the one that loves hogging the mic when speaking. But according to this person, "the pages of D.H. Lawrence's The Plumed Serpent are literally (their emphasis) written in blood." I find that really odd as mine appears to be written with standard printer's ink. Though, perhaps the editor of his older Penguin edition had the resources to do such things back then, write in blood. Or his edition is really the Necronomicon. Eh, what do I know?

^This image's other half is of the same scene (albeit from a few paces back) from the same bathroom redesign storefront by the Pub, down the street from Michael and Kathryn's. I think a future Blip will have to be the same scape here but with someone in the tub, peering creepily over the side. Doing so today was clearly not an option as the place had been closed a good three hours or so.