In Western New York, the winter is dark. Better, that, than California.The sun there is a flare blaring impending disaster. Smog-coughed andsun-cancered. Here, the sky is a closed book. Forgotten. Only promisekeeps us awake to the un-day of another hour of gray. Time unspoolslike a wound string unstrung by a kitten. Like noodles in the... Continue Reading →