'Tis an old moving blanket, a well-traveled moving blanket that has cushioned us around the continent several times, finally--well, most recently--settling down in Tucson.
Because it had gotten drenched in what understated Tucsonans call a "monsoon", I laid it out on the gravel to dry; much faster than any other method.
But I forgot it before it rained again, and the winds attending the monsoon flipped it up on itself.
The dark brown parts are what is left of its rich brown color; parts that ended up facing down, or covered by some other corner of the blanket itself. The lighter section is where the southwest sun not only dried the blanket quickly, but sterilized it of everything that offended the sun.
I should have known it would happen: I looked into the bathroom mirror today.
Because it had gotten drenched in what understated Tucsonans call a "monsoon", I laid it out on the gravel to dry; much faster than any other method.
But I forgot it before it rained again, and the winds attending the monsoon flipped it up on itself.
The dark brown parts are what is left of its rich brown color; parts that ended up facing down, or covered by some other corner of the blanket itself. The lighter section is where the southwest sun not only dried the blanket quickly, but sterilized it of everything that offended the sun.
I should have known it would happen: I looked into the bathroom mirror today.
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