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Saturnine
by
So many of ’s domestic disasters and general failures of housekeeping were saturnine, etymologically if not literally: the ring around the collar, the bathtub ring, the coffee rings on the desk surface to the right of his computer, the day old donut and its companions the uneaten and now inedible onion rings. These rings of detritus, these rings of disorder and dishevelment, each of these rings describes an orbit around an idea, a mote of thought visible only with sidelong glances, that one day, perhaps tomorrow, but definitely not right this moment, he was going to clean this shit up.