The overhead lights are off. There's some sort of electrical problem. But everything else is working, we are bathed in the glows of computers and televisions and even some sunlight from the long narrow window. Everyone is being quieter, muffled by the darkness. And just as suddenly, it was over, the lights came on all over the world. I hear sounds of disappointment over the cubicle wall.
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palisades.
[From French palissade, Latin palus (stake). Ultimately from Indo-European root pag- (to fasten) that is also the source of peace, pacify, pact, travel, compact, pagan, and peasant.]
All those words are related? That's crazy.
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I suggest you read this poem. Not that anybody I know or even myself personally might have a hangover, and I sure as hell am not doing yardwork.
http://www.slate.com/id/2120097/fr/nl/
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