★ Steadily bleakening grayness. Though the light looked featureless, the clouds were curdling. The wind was lazily pushy—there wasn't much of it, yet it was cold, and it managed to be in one's face even after rounding a corner. Tourists clutched guidebooks or maps with both hands, bracing themselves. The umbrella returned home as dry as it had left.
Wednesday, February 27th, 2013
45 Polly Asks: New York Magazine Wants Me to Write Ask Polly For Them. Should I Tell Them to Piss Off?