(no subject)

It's at times like these that the world settles, and bad moods flatten into something like paper that's been folded into books for twenty years.

The mimeographed letters are still just as pungent as the day they rolled out of the machine, and just as purple, but they're smudged in that dusty sort of way that indicates the weather could become fair, and it will all dissipate.

Then again, the precise opposite might happen.