#1
There is never anyone around when you want them to be around. Margaret is off to town. No one's on the pond. No one's on the docks. No one's seen the little pier since they blew it up four years prior. I just sit alone, drenched in sycamore leaves which fall atop my head, wondering where the next lightening bolt will touch down.

Somewhere everything I can think of is happening. In France someone just swallowed a fly. In England someone mistook a cloud shaped like a dinosaur for a cloud shaped like an elephant. In Australia someone tripped on an anthill. All these things happen at the same time. I'm part of this, I suppose, and currently I'm not contributing much to the present shaping of infinity. I'm sorry, universe. You'll forgive me, I'm sure. Like you forgive all the junk that crashes into the moon and the hungry lion for eating its babies. That's so kind of you.

My name and everything is not so much important, so I will not mention it once. I'd rather talk about Margaret, or the bird who just looked me in the face, looked away, and then looked at me once again. His name is Phillip. I saw him in a dream I'm having right now where he's perched on a branch ten feet from me talking about the absurdity of everything. Everything is absurd, he says. "My feet?" I ask naively. Yes. "My memory?" I ask even more naively. Yes. "The universe?" Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Think of something to ask him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. It's all absurd, I guess.

When he left I greeted reality again with a smile and a handshake. Firm, but loose at the same time, like how you hold a baby. I am awful at confusing sleep for reverie, and reverie for sleep. The wind is stoic. I catch it in my hand. We've nothing to say to each other since that day it blew my hat away. I let it go and it spitefully whips across my face blowing my hair all about.

Margaret is back now. That's probably for the best.
Last edited by rushmore at Apr 3, 2012,
#2
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




e-married to
theguitarist
minterman22
tateandlyle
& alaskan_ninja

#4
sometimes moments pass like molasses and sometimes they barely exist. I've been lost in things and imagine your face from time to time.
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




e-married to
theguitarist
minterman22
tateandlyle
& alaskan_ninja