Anodyne
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
 
In The Falling Dark

Cold grey twilight. Metallic snow-smell in the air. Light breeze stirring bare trees, a premoniton of the gale force winds scheduled to arrive after dark. A friend phones with good news, another drops by for coffee, and I'm amazed at the sound of my own voice, like rusty cogwork starting up somewhere deep in my chest.


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