Renee Carter Hall

I love that feeling of a single phrase triggering that sense of "something's here," that sense of an idea close by, if you can just catch it and develop it into something.

Yesterday, the phrase was "pretending we were unicorns" (watching Circus on PBS), which I scribbled into my current journal as a title. I don't know if it'll develop into a concrete plot with real characters and so on, but it's fun mulling it over anyway, that sense of nostalgia and old friendship (and, in context, regret).