cold today and blankets shivering loneliness. Some are straight and neatly arranged on beds. Others are crumpled into a ball. All are frozen, hoping that a warm body is covered with them. They have spent all day alone and at the expense of cold air these days that turn night after five. And now that the hour hand again approaches its zenith, the blankets are rejoicing at the idea that someone is wrapped inside, spreading its fragrance and warmth. Someone who spread its gentle warmth to a room that only knows how to give hugs. It's cold, but when night falls rugs are happy to have somebody to warm up.
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