I hid behind a rock. Several thoughts flashed through my mind. The kind of thoughts a man has when he’s strung out his luck to its very end. Fear, courage, doubt… they were all there. That keen sensibility that, at this point, either path ends the same. You find grit stuck behind that rock.
So I tossed my rocket launcher, cocked my SMG and stepped out. Hovering with an alien-electric whine, the fully-armed space vessel waited not but seven feet away. A half second passed, then electrified plasma and hot slugs filled the air. The conversation lasted eight seconds, but I’d had the last word.
The snails represent the guillotine. Or the French. It sucks its eye in when there is an explosion; the explosion is something to do with aristocracy and maybe poodles.
As you can see, we are supremely sophisticated. Well,
Ahh, the tests are ended and today is Saturday. Hello and welcome friends. We’ve traveled far since the first of the week. Journeying on through the quicksand of Wednesday, we find ourselves at the cusp of a beautiful weekend! The threshold brimming with that yellow sunlight you only see Saturdays.
I sure do love Saturdays. I miss those morning cartoons.
The other night I danced swing. I am a premium dancer. Except when I shuffle my feet, bump girls’ heads, slip on the spins, or laugh awkwardly in their faces. Other than that I am quite premium.
Well enjoy the day folks. A conclusion approaches. Indeed it is nigh.
-Arrivederci!
1 comment:
you're about as stellar at swing as i am, as i recall. and you've never sent your partner flat on the floor, so you should feel good about yourself. :) and you actually go do it. we had a dance here tonight, and i chickened out.
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