Unknown Artist Audrey Hepburn pop art

Unknown Artist Audrey Hepburn pop artPiet Mondrian Tableau IPiet Mondrian Mill in SunlightPiet Mondrian Avond Evening Red Tree
Smells like snow,” said Carter.
“Oh, yeah,” said Baker. “That’s right. Snow at midsum-mer. That’s what they get where the sun don’t shine.”
“Shutup, shutup, shutup,” said Jason.
“What’s up with you?”
“It’s wrong! We shouldn’t be up here! Can’t you feel it?”
“Oh, sit down, man,” said Weaver. “It’s fine. Can’t feel nothing but the air. And there’s still more scumble in the jug.”gloomily.
Baker sniffed.
“You know, it does smell a bit like snow. You know?
That kind of sharp smell.”
Thatcher leaned back, cradling his head on his arm.Baker leaned back.“I remember an old story about this place,” he said. “Some man went to sleep up here once, when he was out hunting.”The bottle glugged in the dusk.“So what? I can do that,” said Carter. “I go to sleep every night, reg’lar.”“Ah, but this man, when he woke up and went home, his wife was carrying on with someone else and all his chil-dren had grown up and didn’t know who he was.”“Happens to me just about every day,” said Weaver
“Tell you what,” he said, “if I thought my old woman’d marry someone