At least LA has trees, she thought. She still smelled them, even as it crept up on a year since her visit. Limes. She remembered throwing them in the street at a boy she didn't know much about.
It was August in New York. An insufferable humidity had kept her permanently drenched since April. Yet she knew that fall was coming, and then winter - and she knew what that meant. People locked in boxes, refusing to leave their beds. Reality. It terrified her. Could she survive another winter? Did she even want to?
She used to dream about Christmas under a blanket of snow. Now she dreamed of a Christmas at the beach.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
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