Yes, I Really Do Read Camus In Between Watching The Practice
I'm damp. Everything around me is infused with this damp. You see, it's been raining here straight, for about, oh, four years, give or take. Not one of those Utah drizzles, either; this is RAIN. With sometimes the accompanying clap of thunder, leading me to hope for all kinds of following weather pyrotechnics -- but the weather gods don't always oblige.
So I awoke today, with all the windows open, and the rain pouring down, and I felt damp. I read Camus, and as I turned the pages, I would feel damp. I pulled my blanket more tightly around me to somehow separate my body from this feeling of damp.
It didn't work, and now I must go out in the downpour.
So I awoke today, with all the windows open, and the rain pouring down, and I felt damp. I read Camus, and as I turned the pages, I would feel damp. I pulled my blanket more tightly around me to somehow separate my body from this feeling of damp.
It didn't work, and now I must go out in the downpour.
posted by juxtaposer at 3:46 PM
4 Comments:
if you had wool blankets it wouldn't mater if they were wet
I'm warm, but it is rather wet here too. But I'm always warm if I'm below the 49th parellel.
what were you reading? i finished exile and the kingdom the other day. the adulterous woman was probably my favorite. it reminded me of when i used to go to the park late at night and dry hump the grass... metaphorically of course.
There are tons of blankets of every type and fiber around this place, NONE OF IT MATTERS. Nothing can keep humidity out.
And I was reading The Plague. No one spoil it for me.
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