In the Meanwhile. . .

. . . N is writing from Florida:

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“Marco Island Marriott exploits the beauty of nature to attract guests. . .

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. . . and then uses the unmitigated ugliness of art to scare them away.

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But at least the desserts are nice.”

N. and I are both in our ideal scenarios: I’m snowed in with a plate of borscht and he is on a beach with a plate of pastries. But neither of us is happy because we miss each other too much.

4 thoughts on “In the Meanwhile. . .

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