Dark and rainy here for the last three days solid. Rained for something like 35 straight hours. Then it rained some more. Darkly.
Out today on a bicycling scrounge ride--in the dark rain--I discovered two boxes of books in a Dumpster. I found myself drawn to certain of the titles, which I plucked from the boxes, wrapped in a scrounged plastic bag--to keep them out of the rain, you know--and hauled home. Among them: Conrad's Heart of Darkness; Camus' The Plague; Kafka's The Metamorphosis; and Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground.
Then when I got home, I awoke to find myself a large, damp vermin.
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