This morning, the foothills were grey and green. Then the clouds formed a broody curtain to conceal them, as a massive swarm of cold white bees came and wheedled at our windows, trying to find entrance. Then the clouds lifted the curtain, revealing the newly whitened foothills.
In other news, the copy machine (on double-sided setting) makes the most intellectually challenging rhythmic textures I've ever heard.
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