On A Friday Morning

The ice has mercifully melted, and the bent branches of the trees are standing out straight again.

The skies are still gray, but the bitter cold that kept us inside is gone.

The paper that kept me up so late last night is finished.

And the dog and the cat are dozing in the bedroom, one on the bed, one on the rug, each cautiously wary of the other.

The weekend is soon to arrive.

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