Shevek (shevek) wrote,

The weather broke while I was in the club house. A cloud came down from the sky and built towers of yellow haze on the lights in the grass. He whispers subtle threats in the trees and tells the land, "I own you now." He wraps his soft arms around everything which moves, and says "I will never let you go." Every light is a lonely island in the mist, snuffed out one by one in the distance. The cool dampness is delightful after the stultifying heat of the day, and the sacrifice is very easy to make.

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    Nobody in the USA has heard of Flanders and Swann. If the country had an editor, I would write to him to express my unmitigated disgust.

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