Sunday, May 3, 2009

histoire d'un écureuil

Went for a run around Prospect Park in the rain, practically deserted, tiny flower petals on the pavement, everything in bloom. I wish I knew the names of more flowering shrubs. On the way home, almost stepped on a squirrel, face down and dead on the sidewalk, like it had fallen from a tree. Maybe it was a suicide. I freaked out a little bit. Now I'm soaked. Oh man, you know what else is great? Jenny Holzer. And you know who I wish wasn't moving to Portland because she knows about all the great things and how will I find out about great things without her? Kat.

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