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July 12, 2012
I'm drinking my morning coffee--black--from a Santa mug, and he gazes at me with his signature eye-twinkle, and I imagine that he's trying to inspire my words, or at the very least encourage me in my writing, and it feels comforting, somehow, to have him (and the mug) beside me, like a friend I've been familiar with since childhood, someone who knows all my faults and talents, someone who can get me through word-drought and lack of creativity, a talisman or good luck charm for the times I need them to eke out the day's words.