The agreeable eye

an eudæmonistarchives

other work

Blossoms against a pinkish sky

It is the itchy time of year, that small collection of days when one notices the dusty cobwebs gathered in the corner and along the picture rail, when the dirty streaks on the window vex a spot of sun that shines too brightly but does not linger long. The piles of books pulled out for winter need to be reshelved, refreshed with other fare, but there is nothing quite right, nothing that truly pleases, because everything is unsettled or unsettling. The dog sighs on the sofa, curled up because the heater has been turned off. The day has at last resolved on being overcast.


ego hoc feci mm–MMXXIV · cc 2000–2024 M.F.C.