The weather is a tease. She blows in my ear but I know that before long she’ll slap my face. This morning is “brisk” and “crisp.” I stepped outside in my shirtsleeves to get the newspaper and saw the first frost on the ground and felt the pleasant half-shiver as the cold finger ran playfully up my spine.
Walking across Hennepin Avenue later my long leather jacket felt good across my shoulders as the puffs of my breath in front of me said, “You’re alive!” Dry leaves scratched across the pavement beside me, running before the inevitable. For today, though, it is at bay and the hot cup of coffee feels good in my hands.
You magnificent bitch.