Saturday, May 15, 2010

habits of being

{May 14, 10}

The weekend began with six shoes, none of them pairs, lying underneath a pile of newspapers from thirty years ago bought en mass from a library book sale and intended to be turned into an entire flotilla of origami boats which would be filled with fortunes written in green crayon on slips of paper and then set alight with a kitchen match, the strike anywhere kind, and floated down the river as a pageant welcoming the arrival and promise of spring, and beside this unkempt stack of mismatched shoes and brittle yellow newspapers full of out of date stories of local interest was a paperback novel of no overwhelming interest cracked open upside down to the first page of chapter twelve, at which point the author had either had a drink too many or his wife had walked out of his life leaving behind nothing more than a half gallon of quietly souring milk and

reading
Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes

weather
a rainbow and its shadow over the hills!