An uneventful week in Pepinoville, home of things Suave. Weather turns towards spring, and a slow, sunny melt has turned the fluff into slush. Nieghbors meet at the end of the driveway and bang on ice, attempting to reclaim cement lost months ago. Cars carry a film of salt dust, and every other mailbox leans away from the snow plow or inexperienced driver that tapped them during the previous storms.
Futsol season nears an end as mitts and bats come up from the basement. The YMCA is less crowded. Humans begin to outnumber the geese at the park. The river unfroze.
I think I’ll go sort out my shorts. Maybe take my bike off the garage rafter.
Llega la primavera,