lamppost.

today began with a phone call that i'd missed, but a message from finn, a boy i dated forever and an ocean ago. i'd forgotten how terribly pretty his voice could be. and i walked in the snow today. finn called because he'd sent me money he's owed me for the last thousand years, so i stopped in some shops. i visited what is, thus far, my favourite antique shop in all the world: there are bird cages there, and specimens of taxidermy, and tiny victorian ladies' underthings, and cuff-links, and photographs, and religious statues, and gloves, and lace, and printing blocks, and boxes, and pianos, and stained glass, and there is very little method to it. it is cluttered and full and exactly the way such things should be. i complimented the woman working there, and she thanked me far more sincerely than i'd expected. i came home and made a dinner that did not turn out particularly well, and visitors stopped in, like they do in this house, and i drank a few glasses of wine, some white, and some red.