Notebook Archaeology

November 3rd

Monday.
First snow flurries.

Tuesday.
On the 11th story, snow falls up to me in swirling flurries. Clouds of black birds fly by in migratory thousands. I walk outside at night and it's finally begun to stick to the cars. I need to touch it, to prove that it's really there. I choose the car least likely to have an alarm, a tiny green European thing, and draw a huge heart on the trunk. Hopefully somebody will feel loved tomorrow morning.