Friday, December 10, 2010

let it snow

running back and forth between the front and the back of the office, the greetings and chidings of my rarely seen coworkers, writing with mary jo, diner coffee (always has some sort of perfect twang in it), mark and mary jo's 1929 bungalow with exposed wood window casings and antique boilers and unexpected corridors, sitting next to a sweet old lady named Zella at a women's fellowship christmas cookie exchange as the snow falls steadily on the plains, and sleeping under mountains of handmade quilts.

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