Tonight we'll squeeze between the fear and the dark

On an hour and a half of sleep (me) and no sleep at all (derspatchel), we have won our way through accurately forecast blizzard and unexpectedly rearranged subway lines to Brooklyn, where I will be reading in a few hours at United Photo Industries with as many other authors as can make it out for the last night of Viktor Koen's Bestiary. Rob has been trying to diagnose us a route through transposed public transit (the F train running in place of the C, the G in place of the F) and it looks as though the answer is going to be: taxi. I forgot the camera and my actual winter hat. I'm pretty sure the aftereffects of the flu came with me. The snow started this afternoon as we were passing through saltmarsh country, a static-white flicker between the sepia-tone cattails and the silver ice smoothing the water and the wet postcard grey of the sky. I will read about Argos Panoptes and any other mythological figures I have time for. It will be all right.