“Suddenly there’s a sense of—what the hell is that?—optimism in the air, along with the pollen of a million blooming plants and trees, people walking around in various stages of undress, their pasty legs and arms exposed to the sun and heat.”
Summer, now a white person thing. I suppose this may not be a terrible piece. The opening just jumped out at me because I haven’t been pasty for about, oh, two months. And most of my neighbors are never pasty.
