I went to the library to look for some evening entertainment, and then I spent a solid half hour staring at a painting on the wall. A woman in a green coat, with a round hat, looking into a cup of tea. She made me who she was, what answers she was looking for in a teacup. We don't have paintings like that at home. They're all portraits of royalty or grand deeds being done, the occasional landscape. Nothing like that. Loneliness in a frame.
I did find a book to spend the rest of the evening with. Has anyone else read Sense and Sensibility? I am not usually a great one for romances, but it was the first one I picked up where the language didn't leave me completely lost in the first five pages.