Sunday, September 25, 2016


Let me hold your attention as I mention a brief instance of time and space.  It was by the grace of her majesty, the Queen of Old, who told me about the tilde above her name that I had forgotten to score.  The more she breathed aberrations, the sensations of sound piled in my ear like a queer mound of clear ground that couldn’t be parted.  I started to imply that I was of no use in her tirade, but this made her speak even louder, like the sound of thunder booming only meters away.  Hearing her say these things in inaudible fashion spurred a passion of wit deep within my bosom.  A blossoming idea to take her words and twist the juice out of them like a lemon diluted in a cup of water.  I asked her a simple question, which was if she could explain herself once more. This time, with more attitude, for I didn’t want to be rude and was to make sure that I heard everything correct.  She suspected something in my ironic tone and hung up the phone before I could pursue my inquiry. The query remains the same.  

Alas, I couldn't forget her ill-begotten words.  Like swords plunged into my chest, they wrenched my soul...

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