Tapping the wood of my pipe on the deck,
I stood uneasily, coasting gently on the caked bed of frosted ice pitted by a few shakes of last night's tablesalt. My limbs shivered momentarily at the thought rather than feel of the chill morning.
a semi-anonymous, egocentric journal of a not-so-prolific Tennessee writer
I stood uneasily, coasting gently on the caked bed of frosted ice pitted by a few shakes of last night's tablesalt. My limbs shivered momentarily at the thought rather than feel of the chill morning.
at
6:02 AM
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