A gentle breeze on a warm summer’s day. A cozy gathering of friends and family around a crackling fire. The sweet aroma of freshly baked cinnamon bread. A slow walk in the autumn woods, light sparkling down through the multi-colored leaves. Billowing white clouds against a stark azur sky, leisurely floating past the tops of palm trees. What do these idyllic scenes all have in common? A: Most people can never find the time to enjoy any of them. B: These are just some of the things you would never try to describe using a crankish font like Spleeny Decaf GD.
A gentle breeze caressed his face as his body took on the easy posture of a dancer on break. Flickering sparklets of light sprinkled the glass-smooth surface of the aqua liquid on which he floated. His mind wandered; he was only days away from his scheduled departure date. This day was no different from a hundred other days he had spent melded to his windsurfer, skittering along the breadth of the modest lake, soaking up the sun’s rays and forgetting about the entire rest of the world.Lake Quannapowitt, and the town of Wakefield, Massachusetts, were familiar to Steve, a long-time resident of the picturesque New England town. This is where he grew up; this is where he married and lived for many years; and this is the place he was preparing to leave, not one week hence. Not generally prone to nostalgia, it was in just such a state he nonetheless found himself once Zephyrus retreated, as was his custom, periodically, while patrolling the resplendent lake. Steve was going to miss the lake, and he was going to miss the town.