rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Need Raspberry Syrup, and More Blankets

Snow finally arrived this evening, though it might be more accurate to call it slush. It's white and frozen, but very wet. For the moment, the rain has returned, so the slush might either melt away, or freeze into a nice underlayer of ice for later snowfall. Then there will be the dance of cars on all the roads, and consequent knocking down of trees and utility poles. I don't know how long the power will remain on. This storm is expected to continue at least until Sunday.

Very late last night, the rain ceased for a while, and there was a brief clearing, revealing the waning moon and patches of starry sky. There were yet fogs drifting through the forest. Only by their slow movement was it possible to distinguish them from the bare oaks, whose dense masses of twigs, when lit by moonlight, resemble small, earthbound clouds. But the clouds closed once more, and the day was once again gray, and afternoon dampened by drizzles. Birds clustered on telephone wires and the dark branches of pine trees, and did not sing.

A few hours remain before I shall have, to my surprise, survived another calendar year. The newspaper today brought the annual list of celebrities I have now outlasted. The list included a number of obscure one-hit-wonders, and it left out Warren Zevon. How capricious is fame! No, wait! He died last year! The years must be getting shorter. Yeah, that's it. Shorter years. Not getting older, at all. Just shorter years.

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Fifteen

    Once again I've forgotten when I went to sleep, but I woke up around two o'clock in the morning. Tuesday was quite warm, and I kept the windows open…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Fourteen

    I don't recall the exact hour, but it was well before midnight Monday, when I felt the sudden need for a nap. I expected it to last until perhaps two…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Thirteen

    Didn't feel well Sunday, so I didn't do anything. Of course I never do anything anymore anyway, so just like any day. Except I sneezed more. It was…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.