Friday, December 3, 2010

Outside of town about a mile, four stories

The recycling bin is full of water. On the radio, I heard lingering mention of the bomb threat in Portland. I threw a banana peel into the yard and watched two movies about adoption and child custody, and because it was on sale bought another Tofurkey to eat for three dinners. And also: a bottle of wine. Drinking half reminded me of Thanksgiving. How is a week already so long?

If I wrote all that down, it would be a story, and not a consequential one. I wonder if a quote would be more meaningful. Like from a song, or tombstone. But that's not what this is about. I'm trying to think of what I heard today. The original purpose: recount.

We only read the Bible when students are here.

You pronounce it "abo-mi-nable," though local villagers call the creature Yeti.

There isn't a big enough house that's still nice; I'm about to tell Daniel he just has to live in a kid's room.

Did you hear the lyrics? The speaker lied to his landlord about getting a job, and now he's at the bar, just drinking. Count how many times he says "beer."

I guess those are four stories. But now it's late, and my mind is drifting, and I have to drive a long way tomorrow, and today was hard enough. I'm going to sleep with a pillow beside me. I expect the roads will be safer. I could take a train, listen to music. I know I'll wear a soft shirt.

1 comment:

  1. Ah, the prayers of the millions, how they must fight and destroy each other on their way to the throne of God.

    A quote from my yesterday, though it was read in a book, not spoken.

    Pleasant travels, my friend.

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