★★★★ Wool felt a little itchy in the full sun. Dissolving contrails made an X in the downtown sky. It was worth chasing and re-sorting a few wind-scattered pages to get up on the roof in the afternoon light for a while, away from the still lagging office heating system. By now, the hastiness of the day's end felt like real shortchanging. There was no hope that the pink western sky would survive the length of a subway ride. But the sky over the uptown exit was at least a cheery cobalt, something less than full night.
Tuesday, October 29th, 2013
37 Polly Asks: New York Magazine Wants Me to Write Ask Polly For Them. Should I Tell Them to Piss Off?