Murmur

It is cold and quiet outside. Ink with a sprinkling of pale glitter.

I made myself a semi-lame supper, got cleaned up, and stuck a shamrock pin in my shirt. Then wandered around a bit here before brewing a cup of coffee and logging on. There is a subdued murmur of traffic drifting up from the highway. Closer, the roads are black and mostly empty.

I feel mostly empty, too.