I got confused this morning. I saw the waves racing the southerly and I saw the clouds tagging along and for a second I thought it was all upside down. Like me. It’s May and it’s cold and I’m wondering when I’ll finally start to equate these gently named feminine months with the cooling and drying and dying of warmth? It’s May and I should be pulling out my summer whites, having them pressed or something, imagining my face atop the charmingly bare wire hanger shoulders of models who make summer look so hot. Like an atheist trying to...




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