Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A short story I might be working on?

Running shouldn’t be made part of a daily routine due to weather. Like, just you get up with a leaky faucet. Chipper children. The boat launch. A ragged dog ignores the regulation of traffic because breakfast is most important, today. Spent all night barking, sore mouth doesn’t improve in seven days. The doctor calls it brackish.

Ragged again, sunlight grapple a niche in all tangled fabric. I’m warming. Grab my rod and reel, approaching the rail. Fish biting nice in numbers. Little fishy mouths mute for little music bits. Cultures of the past considered this form of purity to allow the fish to address small amounts of dirty humans to cure diseases in fish populations. Consider it a blessing removing your dry skin cells. The bed for dander.

Water of such an ending. Retaking the human, that recollection. Squids mirror, Italian take out. Kung pow eyes up from inside white boxes mixed in with the froth on spin.

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