Steady, unfriendly rainfall forced me inside, and, not feeling too outside-yoga to begin with, I decided
to do it right there in that dark, grotto-like living room. Hence the dingy picture; it was just that kind of day.
There, in the early-morning non-light, I did my thing. To my surprise, I liked this non-glamorous setting. Still and almost totally silent, it was very womb-like, as to be quite compatible with my unsociable mood. I yoga'd in my underwear, to an audience of no one. Rain dripped. Time crept silently past. Were there a death-bed fly to buzz, I could've heard it.
If Poe had done yoga, this would be his kind of session.
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