Well, I knew I wouldn't make it a week and I was right, but that's no reason to stop. Of course I notice that when I miss one day, which I did Thursday because of long hours at work, it's really hard to write the next, which is the only reason I didn't on Friday and Monday. So here I am on Tuesday and I have to write something or I fear I may give up completely. i need to get back into it. So here's a short imagined painting I'm not skilled enough to paint.

Right-arm crooked through the giant red letter O. It's late at night, the sky black, but lit by city lights and the large letters on top of the building. We see only the bottom two-thirds of the letter O and parts of each letter to the left and right, however unrecognizable. The man leans on the O, head looking down at his feet. His face covered by hair, shaggy, but not long. Slung across his back is a dark-colored 1976 fender mustang guitar. His jeans and white t-shirt partly illuminated by the light of the O.