Outside my window

The only photo I took of any value was Rob(erta) outside my office window, contemplating the world below.


Yesterday's literary classic was Shirley Jackson's The Lottery, which became an instant classic after being published in The New Yorker in 1948. About a town that still does things traditionally because that's what you do and holds an annual lottery in which the one who gets the paper with the charcoal dot is stoned to death.

Ugh...