A Slow Ride Home

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The parking lot was covered by an expanse of flawless white: smooth and powdery, like finely sifted flour.  As I walked, the falling snow moistened and turned to sleet, patting down in liquid whispers.  My car shuddered and slid a bit on the way out -- then settled in for a slow ride home.

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This page contains a single entry by John published on January 28, 2009 12:15 AM.

Slow Morning Thoughts was the previous entry in this blog.

Ghosts, In is the next entry in this blog.

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