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Thursday, September 08, 2005

an august ending

September is a difficult month, because the sun beats down from that funny angle with all that it has, but the humidity is gone and you just know that this is its last effort. All around campus this week I've been coming across the dead bodies of locusts, white bellies to the sky and delicate wings disassembled by ravenous ants. That characteristic drone that provides a summer day its special air of comfortable oppression has grown softer, but somehow more desparate. The dwindling survivors must call louder to their few remaining friends, and every day someone else fails to call back.
September is like that.

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