I couldn't see 30 centimetres out of the windows of my office, this morning. It's eerie when it is like that; wrapped in a cotton wool tower. The world is white, whipped up in stiff egg whites, inside a pavlova, looking out. It's like floating in a cloud, thirty stories high. We're just ice cream cake innards, looking out of the giant (blind?) marshmallow man's eyes.
It does look like you could just lick it up. Inhale the sweet, whipped sugar. (Like sucking off Hansel, once you'd got him out of his lederhosen) Sugar and spice and puppy dog's tails (Bending Hansel over and sniffing his marzipan)
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