Friday, October 30, 2015


In the End, I Do Not Know If Anyone Actually Died.

This could get rid of a lot of trouble

O how the dawn wind did chase itself through the trees with the double-backs of breeding creatures; thick and greasy was the rainwater on the windshield of the old van. I was on my way to get a new favorite pastry at Gillie Tillie Mae's, a modern bakery frequented by thin women and weak men. They produce marvelous, tender delights without the benefit of wheat flour, and I am lately much at the mercy of their walnut scone with Meyer lemon curd thumb-print.

Would you, "look at me now," as the famous saying goes.

It was at the recommendation of Pat that I try this bakery, as I had been telling him perhaps too richly of my Autumn digestion. I must say that to this end he was on the mark, which is unusual for him when it comes to foods that others will enjoy.

As the van pulled its way up New Grammond, a major thoroughfare I often use, I noticed the blinking antlers of a highway trooper in the parking lot of a Safeway supermarket. At first I did assume there had been thievery, as the area is one of cadaverous men lurching perilously across the roads in mid-block, but then the sirens of an ambulance whined their way toward the scene, causing the plot to thicken somewhat. I imagined an old man—his flat yellow-white hair many years out of trim, his jeans the size of a circus tent, housing great and pallid unwashed loins—collapsed in the aisle by the Google Play gift cards, his agonic growl bearing the fury of his knotted heart. Perhaps a kind soul knelt by him; more likely, no-one wished to engage the disgusting spectacle.  

I was made to consider that typically at this time of day I am still in the comfort of the living room easy chair, taking in the radio news or working through a mystery. Today, though, I was reminded that the world thrashes on about its day without cease, great drama always at one's elbow, the limit of earshot just the beginning of the action. It was good summons to more often be out and about in this world, for, "You never know who will be dying at Safeway."

I am tickled by this new line I have coined, and I expect to get much use from it. It has a lasting ring, much like the bite-sized wisdoms of Ben Franklin or Carl Sagan, if you will allow it. 

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