Wednesday, January 23, 2002

ash bucket back wash

the request was made. the duty will be done. here it is, the canvass, to be filled with broad strokes fueld by bored brain brackets and a forty five minute home stretch. a call to the taxi owner with five minutes to spare. begging with silence and a desperate plea for normal patio furniture replacements. catalogues all askew and plans on hold, the silver in her hair and the soft medallion chair. the package is filled with potential positivity and the sisters of mercy are scheduled to arrive before the drought takes the cake. they have been put on alert. they stand there with their heels all aligned and shined. he used to believe that there was beauty in waiting and wanting. however, they have been bedfellows, now, for much too long. they seem like stubbly chinned monsters glaring through the dim winter blaze of boredom. the druel dripping on his shoes, their breath more potent than the midnight tunnel vandals and the software slobs slumped in the breakroom. it's time for one of those small saviours to make their presence known. it's time now, for them to emerge from the ranks of the breadwinning "troupe de solitaire" and provide subsistance at a moments glance.


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