Sun worshippers
There is a line above New York city or thereabouts, maybe more like Connecticut state line, that God drew and said, "let there be terrible and confusing weather above this line, especially here in the city of Boston." And we pass our days in suffering.
We suffered last week, and the week before, with plagues such as snowfall, and temperatures at which your spit freezes. I wore a sleeping bag to go outside and tried not to breathe. Acceptingly, because I know that by electing to live above the said line, I was electing to endure the consequences.
Once in a while the curse is lifted, and we step outside, confused (just like God said), and ask each other, what, pray tell, is this strange golden orb in the sky? I am not familiar with such brightness.... And we rejoice.
Today is one of those days. I rejoiced all the way to lunch throwing off my winter robes and squinting at the sky, producing vitamin D left and right.
Short-lived joy. Because come 4 pm, the golden orb disappeared anyway. And you, or at least I, started to circle the energy drain once more.
Drawing literary parallels back to an earlier post, where I equate myself to a laboratory mouse, manipulated and hibernatory, here I will compare myself to a parakeet: I sing and frolick in my cage if it's light out, but throw a kerchief over me, and I obediently go to sleep. I can't help it, it's mandated by higher powers.
I just took a lengthy desk nap, and now I will go home so I can take a real nap. Also mandated.
We suffered last week, and the week before, with plagues such as snowfall, and temperatures at which your spit freezes. I wore a sleeping bag to go outside and tried not to breathe. Acceptingly, because I know that by electing to live above the said line, I was electing to endure the consequences.
Once in a while the curse is lifted, and we step outside, confused (just like God said), and ask each other, what, pray tell, is this strange golden orb in the sky? I am not familiar with such brightness.... And we rejoice.
Today is one of those days. I rejoiced all the way to lunch throwing off my winter robes and squinting at the sky, producing vitamin D left and right.
Short-lived joy. Because come 4 pm, the golden orb disappeared anyway. And you, or at least I, started to circle the energy drain once more.
Drawing literary parallels back to an earlier post, where I equate myself to a laboratory mouse, manipulated and hibernatory, here I will compare myself to a parakeet: I sing and frolick in my cage if it's light out, but throw a kerchief over me, and I obediently go to sleep. I can't help it, it's mandated by higher powers.
I just took a lengthy desk nap, and now I will go home so I can take a real nap. Also mandated.
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