I saw a face the other day, though as I stopped to tie my Weejuns, recalling that the had no laces and I recalled, that, that face is one that I knew. Then, the nose on that face, blew into a balled up mask maybe carried as a spare, perhaps one needed to washed as maybe it had some stain, either chocolate or harissa or Chick Fil A sauce. I could hear the low blowing hiss of time, like a bursting cyst in that internal boiler room, nothing to do with actual pustulation, more puzzling.
I resisted an urge, to get pissed. What a pisser of a day and I thought the length of my inseams seemed, a tad short as time is short when the gas in the tank seems low. And those days when, a hole developed in my Targa top creating in me a need, to driver faster in the rain, than in dry weather. Snow, falls more sideways which never concerned me much, unless I by the worse of conditions I found myself sliding into a corner.
I saw a face the other day, and I recalled some time later, our faces spent time together and I thought as we passed, how I barely remember that face despite, being face to face year after year, across in a cubical perhaps, or in a weekly pole dancing class.
In the driveway I ruminated some more, closed the front door, exited the back door went into the shed sat on the slight ledge which runs along the far wall like a race track for dust. I sat for a while but really it was more like a sustained lean, long enough to no longer recall the face I recently faced but still feeling bothered about the fuzzy and the fuss created out of my own internet outage.
I resisted an urge, to get pissed. What a pisser of a day and I thought the length of my inseams seemed, a tad short as time is short when the gas in the tank seems low. And those days when, a hole developed in my Targa top creating in me a need, to driver faster in the rain, than in dry weather. Snow, falls more sideways which never concerned me much, unless I by the worse of conditions I found myself sliding into a corner.
I saw a face the other day, and I recalled some time later, our faces spent time together and I thought as we passed, how I barely remember that face despite, being face to face year after year, across in a cubical perhaps, or in a weekly pole dancing class.
In the driveway I ruminated some more, closed the front door, exited the back door went into the shed sat on the slight ledge which runs along the far wall like a race track for dust. I sat for a while but really it was more like a sustained lean, long enough to no longer recall the face I recently faced but still feeling bothered about the fuzzy and the fuss created out of my own internet outage.