The dusting of snow crystals throughout the harbor town needs to be scraped from windshields instead of being brushed, and offer potentially slippery sidewalks and narrow neighborhood streets. Bare branches and twigs of tall curbside trees sparkle in a thin crusty white layer like delicate fans, frozen at a windless height. Right and left turns at the intersection quickly wear away the light snow down to damp brown pavement beneath a light gray morning sky as blocks of city lights are switched off. When I return my gaze of the street through Carmen’s window, to my plate of perfect soft basted eggs, the contrast of thick dark buttered rye dipping into a rich yellow yoke is vivid next to the steaming refill and the waitress’ quiet laughter. Peace.
Posted on: Sun, 21 Dec 2014 14:04:35 +0000
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