Helmut walked up and stole away all the things that made women like me. I rolled around, spoiled. I knew that as soon as I began to speak the things that were on the background wall picture would somehow explode onto the scene.

Where do you say? Where do you say? You've laughed too hard.

So THEN I stepped off the curb, out into the street, and there was a plutonium tractor right there, spitting energy at me. That's quite a sunburn you can get from that.

I limped back to the beach and fell asleep in the sand. When i woke up there was a crab twisting my ear. I guess the crab twisting my ear is what actually woke me up, but it didn't feel so much like that as that I woke up and then noticed that there was a crab twisting my ear. Not that I immediately knew it was a crab.

There are something like six billion people in the world, and I've got to be the one waking up on the beach with a crab twisting my ear. The sounds coming in took on that peculiar twist, too, like they had to talk their way through security to get in. So there was some cancellation going on, the sound of the waves only intermittently penetrating.

Then I threw the crab out into the water. It took part of my ear with it. Good riddance to bad ears, though.

Meg Licking a Pole

If the very final transmission had already come through, would I even recognize it as such? At what point could I go back through the detritus, point, and say, "there, that was the one?"

Still, grammatically, you have to leave that punctuation that way or you're incorrect. Ignore that it reads so wrong.

8 days. Counting.

Mom as a Bookshelf

Yea, Though He's Out Beyond the Ramparts

Trying to take snapshots of every distinct quanta of time I encounter, because I know they'll change color when I see them later. Each shard of glass, dangerous and sharp when discovered, is smoothed down to a perfect and harmless, false but beautiful token that allows me to believe my life has been this colorful.