Oh What Spring Time Days You Once Beheld

Last night, in an inverted snowy dream, the Minneapolis Metrodome heaved inwards into itself. The roof, under the weight, collapsed further still until outside met inside. It bent until it caved, it caved until it broke. Snow poured in and coated the astroturf. The citizens of Minneapolis must wake to visions of a lamentable and languid whale, which the ring of the stadium bravely guards.

And on the streets, people in cars tentatively pass: optimistic for new structures, reverential of the old, and still content with Christmas approaching.