The snows began early, far earlier than they had been wont to in recent years. We were caught unprepared, our summer windows and white linen suits no match for the blanket that surrounded and engulfed us. The end of summer, suddenly, desperately, upon us, barbecues canceled and baseball tournaments declared no winners at all. As the days passed, meteorologists made promises of respite, reassured us that the abrupt change in seasons would only be temporary, but we could each feel it, deep in our souls, the entrance of winter.
will flights be delayed: that is the question
an astounding assortment of the avant-garde:
Reader's block / by David Markson
The curfew / Jesse Ball