A Cloud of Thought

...it is getting to winter. The rain is cold and sometimes icy, and it's less wet when it's icy. This time of year there are no juicy cantaloupe in the grocery store. Cantaloupe should be plural like antelope, right? A herd of cantaloupe? Rolling across the savanna, easy prey for herbivores?

The point is that there is no juice to run down my chin as in summer, and no woman to tell me that I'm being a slob. My shirt remains unstained by melons. The juices of this season are hearty and meaty. They are gravy. They are fat. Fat keeps warmth and secrets like a good friend. Fat is a good friend.

I am no good at maintaining a train of thought. A cloud of thought I can do. Clouds make less noise when passing by your home. Only some clouds look like mechanical snakes. Clouds flatten less pennies and kill less pedestrians...