laugardagur, febrúar 25, 2006


I was sure I saw a white streak against blue sky this morning, the contrail of a jet high up, but now the air is woolly and white to within a hundred feet of the ground. Perhaps I saw blue out some other window, not the windows of the bedroom or the sitting room, not the bathroom either (those are frosted anyway) or the kitchen. Disconcertingly, I cannot seem to find it now.

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