Sunday, Sunday


Sunday, Sunday

Sundays are sometimes not-so-sunny. Today for instance–it’s gloomy, dreary. It’s also January. When spring comes we’ll be so happy . . . Maybe. Spring has its own quirks I suppose, an equal amount of doom and gloom. Everything will stink. Things will become wet, muddy, dirty, grimy. Rivers will swell, and basements will flood.

We’ll still be happy when spring comes, but now one must wonder if it’s really the change which gives us momentary bliss?

We hope you like blooming maples. 

(This is a horror blog! –Ashkenaz)


Leave a Reply