And now a teaspoon of flakes floats in the glow of the streetlamps. In the distance a dog barks and barks and barks. The sky is a Blakean navy blue, a shade lighter than the navy blue sea. In a moment or two the sun will rise, and the colors will recede to gray. But for now it all impends.
I will write and read and edit today. And do laundry and think of something or other for dinner. And walk out into the storm.