journal

the first of the month

A new beginning, waving its little tentacles of hope and possibility. It snowed a good few inches here this afternoon, but I don't mind. I'm even starting to forget the silly, overpriced dinner I had last night on the Lower East Side. Instead, I'm thinking of the half-avocado I spread on a thick slice of bread when I came in out of the cold. The tidy sprinkle of seasoned salt. Like a little wink, a fluttery whisper of what the month will bring.