Where Goddesses Are Sleeping

This morning, I opened my eyes and immediately started hacking and sneezing. Pete said, “What is wrong with you?” I coughed and snurked. “Ah! My extreme beauty! It’s not for everyone.”

This tree by the economics building was pink two weeks ago and today is is luxuriously green. Graduations are finally over. The little dickenses have departed for parts unknown, which is good for me. For the next week, those of us who actually live here can park our cars without a fist fight. After that, the town will be overrun by summer students who flunked geometry the first time, and these paying sweathogs park, sometimes on a z-axis. In June, New Brunswick looks like a festival of emergency orange traffic cones so in September garages are still standing.

I can’t explain that.

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