Pretty Lady was just awakened by a thunderclap so large and so near that it set off all the car alarms on the block. She emerged calmly from the loft and went to the windows to ascertain whether or not a bomb had hit Manhattan. Preliminary evidence seems to suggest that it was, indeed, thunder; there is rain, there is grayness, there is no large plume of black smoke anywhere about that she can see.
We New Yorkers are still a bit jumpy.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Good morning
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2 comments:
Ah the thunder. I love it. Zeus’ voice sings his ballade from the heavens. I also like lightning. It is an incredible site to see the thunder heads roll across the plains. Crackling and dancing with their sparks of light and prance across the fields of wheat. I doubt you get to see that much in Manhattan?
Well if PL doesn't want to go back to Italy I'll gladly go for her. That reminds me. Gotta get me a lottery ticket tomorrow.
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