Round and Round
the mighty feather fucks around with the wind!
no one can actually convince the feather that it is the other way around
it was a Friday, I said it loud so that I could remember the exact day like right now when I think of it or tomorrow when I think of it again or a year from now when I'll still think of it. That was the day when I forgot looking forward behind the veil of smoked ham and cheese behind the wall of morning toast behind the ocean of coffee and the curtain of cigarette smoke. I never read the newspaper, I never bought the newspaper except when I was travelling by train. I liked reading the sports pages when I was travelling by train. I travelled by train 4 or 5 times a year, most of the time I was not travelling anywhere, I mostly went to the mall and bought food and soap and shampoo, sometimes a chocolate but not too often, and some fancy but cheap shirt made in Bangladesh or Pakistan. I hated buying shoes and bestsellers, who the fuck cares about the life of professor Robert Langdon? Anyway, it was a Friday, a beautiful day I slept through Saturday and on Sunday I went fishing, I had the feather in my pocket and I was squashing it with my hand.
Short story by Sanchez
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Written on 2009-09-04 at 16:20
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Christin Brennan |
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NicholasG |