At 6:30 this morning, the scent of ocean struck me even before I opened the door; gleaming pale fog clung to the houses and trees, obscuring the runnel of traffic already building. As I bobbled along, I found myself singing, off-tune and wavering, under my breath.

“There’s a bright golden haze on the meeeeadow
There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow
The corn is as high as —-

I am gonna swat that girl.”

From “Elli” e-mail@whatsis.huh
Subject: Bright golden haze on the meadow
Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2005 14:16:42 +0200
To: “Elsa” e-mail@whosis.huh

Darn you straight to heck, Elli.

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