The streets are filled with the muck of winter, thick piles of slushy filth mixed with oil and pollution. I step gingerly over frozen mounds of slushy snow hoping with each tentative step that I won’t slip and fall in to the abyss of winter filth. Oh how I yearn for a heavy rain to wash it all away and clean the world. Make it fresh and new, the smell of spring in the air, that first bud on a tree. Oh how I yearn for the days when I have to gun my car over a frozen snow bank just to launch it into a parking spot.
I step tentatively from the car, moving quickly on my toes, lifting my pants up so as not to dirty them. I fly across the slushy mushy street before a passing car can spray me, watching each step carefully. Why must it be so….oppressive? For now the light burning from the coffee shop window is my only sunshine. My latte my only breath of something fresh. I can’t wait for these slushy, mushy, dirty, gross days to be over.