There is snow on the ground now. And there are less stubbed cigarettes littered around my white boots where i stand with my coffee, outside the grey university buildings. Strangely, the coldness of winter soon approaching has initiated a convulsive heat through my body and flickers of vitriolic discomfort rising in my rib cage and into my breaths. i am choler, in black mittens and a young girl's old dress-up jacket. i bite my lip hard, just like i can feel my hands crack to bleed into the dry air and the floating flurries.
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i have been baking a lot. Baking is like doing an experiment in the lab, except more delicious. And usually, the results are tangibly better.
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i miss you so, and when you leave, i'll miss you even more...
ReplyDeleteand my dear, my chin is up and ready to rollerskate!
it's December and New England has yet to experience its first snow. Nevertheless I couldn't feel a greater chill...
ReplyDeletei miss New England, mr. bitter - even more so now.
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