Monday, September 1, 2008

Obvious Consequences

A lovely rooster scaled the compost pile and - so regal on the rot - set about crowing. Sun lay on the azaleas. The kids ate pancakes, fried eggs and sausage. You could hear a mandolin somewhere, its elevated rippling reminiscent of coupons.

The newspaper revealed our willingness. Fifteen years passed since they crossed the road and still nobody could forget. A story constructed of familiar tropes but penned on the back of a candy wrapper is what. He wrote "she wrote" and they both meant it.

Sometimes you have to "let go." The paddle floated away following his heart attack. A valentine aesthetic, a love song. Skimming stones was an early art acquired with some difficulty and he remained proud of the knack, never passing a chance to display it.

They drank Budweiser with their hash, then went out and killed four cows. The boy said aloud how the bloody skulls reminded him of transistors. There were obvious consequences though nobody bothered to elucidate them. Well, screen doors shouldn't slam and you couldn't spill a drop.

This was a way of seeing the landscape through a lens that was both historical and arcane. They wanted candy - salty chips even - anything to deflect a considered reflection. Though he reasoned at a young age that roads could be both a means of escape and return. On a fine morning with its autumn breeze, and the last of the tomatoes for breakfast.

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