Hail.
Not, for you Apples to Apples fans, golf-ball sized . . . yet. Since I intend to perch in this cafe window until I have written seven pages on Matthew Arnold, I will certainly have plenty of opportunity to keep you posted on the meteorological happenings in this neighborhood.
Wow, in the two minutes I was just writing this, it has started coming down harder and sticking--like, the whole Ave is white. People are taking pictures of each other in it with their cell phones. It's real winter! I can't believe three days ago I was wearing flip flops.
1 comment:
First I read "Hail" as a command to salute, and then I read "Ave" as AH-vay.
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