I’ve given a name to the past month of my life.
I call it Chaos at Feast.
I’ll admit that as names go, this was not my first choice. It has a kind of pretentious teenage boy quality to it, don’t you think? I considered Lucifer Sam for a while. Jennifer Gentle. The Judge. The Kid. Tyrone Slothrop. A Spoonful Weighs a Ton. Ann Botkin. Black Paul. Even plain old July.
But I ended up going with Chaos at Feast because, well, I guess the month I just lived through feels like a Chaos at Feast and anyway, it’s started responding to the name, so now of course I am stuck with it.