Reading Ecclesiastes

It's going to snow.

I'm at the point where I can't think of a word for the way I feel.

It's a good day to go into town.

The museum's open on Sunday.

I could have breakfast at Granny's and read the Sunday paper, The Billings Gazette.

It hasn't snowed yet but it's going to.

The thermometer by the front door is broken. I'll buy a new one at Walmart.

Cold, I pretend to smoke a cigarette. A cigarette always tastes better when I don't smoke it.

I'm late for church, so I won't go.

So quiet out, like the silence after Beethoven.

If it snows I'll take my phone outside and take a picture of a snowflake.

Under a microscope snowflakes are blue.