Monday, March 30, 2009

Try as she might, she could not lift herself out of that chair. It was frozen to her.
So that big old comfy armchair now came with her wherever she desired to go. All over that big city they went.
As she sat looking at the world, she thought of her man's scruffy jaw, and how he was the sun and a full moon and music and waves in the blue ocean.
The door creaked, pushed ajar by the wind, and the draft brought in a whiff.
Her neighbors were frying pickles.





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