strange radiation: the pool of radiance archive
Adventures with an unreliable narrator.
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Feb 17 03: hush
Snowing and snowing and snowing. Outside the bathroom window, every strut on the fire escape has its own three-inch drift. And still it falls, and we’re told that it won’t stop coming down until tomorrow night. The city has gone quiet, even for a Sunday night, as we all bunker in and wait for the Nor’Easter to do its stuff. A weird orange glow comes from everywhere and nowhere, as sodium streetlamp light reflects from the muffled sidewalks and parked cars and the flakes that thicken into a heavy fog above our heads. By suppertime tomorrow there may be two feet of snow in Hell’s Kitchen. Imagine.
The excitement of it all has kept me up even as my mind starts to slip its gears. I had dinner with John H, then came home and played a zillion games of computer pinball and solitaire between dashes to the window and the weather channel. But I think the novelty has worn off at last. There are two extra blankets on the bed, and I’m off to keep them company.