Talkin’ Trash

OUTSIDE OUR APARTMENT THE WIND IS HOWLING. It is a north wind coming across the open sea from the polar regions. It may be late April, but it feels like February. I’m glad I brought along my heavy jacket.

The clouds in the sky, according to my wife, the lovely and cinematically referential, Dawn, resemble the clouds used by space aliens to conceal the Mother Ship from prying human eyes. She’s right.