Snow in the Slough again. This all started with snow. Everything has always started and ended with snow.

I expected snow would mix with the mud of the slough in hideous slush this winter, hard to drag feet through. But snow blankets the Slough with beauty, hides the ruts, hummocks and treacherous pits.

I am suffering from terminal naivety, still trusting in the smooth surface, wanting to believe honesty exists. Naivety is the word for trust in the real world.


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