Dispatches from and thoughts about (what now has to be called) real reality.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
The Last Leaf
Or actually, it may be the next to the last leaf, because there was one other one still on the cherry tree in early November, and to be honest I don't know which one fell first.
And as far as I know, unlike O. Henry's short short, no awful and ironic consequences attended its fall. Just winter. Ho hum.