22 January 2013
Nothing is funny anymore. There is no symbolism. There is no veiled meaning. Everything is laid bare.
Little Mikey Nitrous held up four fingers. He stared at them in the cold winter air. He reached out with his other hand and grasped one of his fingers. With a deft twist he snapped it at the joint. It sounded like when his mother prepared chicken for frying. Intense pain raced up his arm to his brain, but he didn't say a thing.
He just looked at it, and smiled. He knew what it meant.
Do you ever do that?
Maybe there is a little symbolism left, after all.
14 January 2013
Yeah...that man over there...do you see him? The one with the long overcoat and the fedora pulled down over his eyes. It looks like he is holding a violin or a dozen roses or a wrapped fish. I'm not sure what it is.
I think he must have some kind of problem. He's dressed in such old-style clothing, and he looks like he's thinking about something. He obviously is not using his cell phone, and it is not entirely clear whether or not he even has one. He has not been sending texts or anything. He just stands there. He was reading a newspaper just a minute ago, so he must have some kind of problem.
The next thing you know, he will break out a book.
What is wrong with some people?
11 January 2013
08 January 2013
04 January 2013
Click above or on this sentence to be magically transported to the lost beat! Cool!