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Slippery season

Modifié le : 2019/08/06

Win­ter has just begun, and it already looks like spring. It rained heav­i­ly last night ; the streets are now slip­pery, many passers-by, despite their cau­tion, are reduced to get­ting up painful­ly, wet clothes, and well awake. Snow looks like dirty flour, unsuit­able for view­ing or con­sump­tion. The air car­ries no par­tic­u­lar smell, the sun suc­ceeds in tear­ing the dirty cot­ton wool from the sky. It is a small Tues­day like any oth­er ; I am already falling asleep, sit­ting on my bed like an Indi­an woman writ­ing these few lines. I could say that I have noth­ing to say because I have work to do. But I’ve already said a lot.

My words, like this gloomy win­ter, try as best they can to get through the season.

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