My friends I return to you at this late hour with a tale of myself. I write this with still wet hair and numb feet, for I have walked through the fallen and still falling snow in nothing more than shalwar kameez, trenchcoat and moccasins. I will do my best to tell you all what I felt: I stepped out for a cigarette to find the world not only covered once again at new fallen snow, but wind blowing fresh snow and old snow around me. So encapsulated by such I ran down my sidewalk and back again. ... read more
