Friday, February 22, 2008
But snow is working to obscure that line some, so I'm pulling a J Alfred Prufrock, making my way through certain half-deserted streets, (Eliot wrote that here, right? or Cambridge maybe, next door.) sometimes finding an historical marker, sometimes finding a coffee shop -- like this one, the Boston Beanstock, where I'm fortifying with a tender tomato basil tart and a steamy joe before heading out again.
Posting by cameraphone.