Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Sunday, May 1, 2016
"Is it raining?" I ask. We've taken the day off from the Brooklyn Flea after finding out that, not only would it be raining, but the 5 Boro Bike Tour was supposed to pass right by our usual set up spot. Not a great day to sell butterflies, we figured, and after sleeping in for a bit, we're finishing breakfast in the front room of our apartment while the grey light from an overcast day leaches the color from the world.
"Enough for some people to carry umbrellas," she replies, gazing contemplatively out the window at the passers-by on the street below.