Paley, Grace


Well, I didn’t think I’d pull this off. A particularly invidious houseguest in the form of streptococcal has left my coccyx surprisingly unscatched, but the pharynx, well, I don’t recall gargling with rusted staples after my razorblade dinner, but gosh it hurts in there. And so here I sit, throatily challenged to forego my Saturday podcast, but, compulsive as I am, couldn’t stand the thought. And so, after finding the shortest Miette-worthy pod to cast today, I quickly numbed it up with a half pint of raspberry sorbet, then before the anaesthetic thawed, raced through Paley. If I take another bite of sorbet I might even be able to screech out a final whew, but otherwise, for today, that’s all she wrote.