Big Inca

To: The Boss

From: Bill

Date: December 6 

Sunday morning has become a ritual of going out in the rain to get doughnuts and the Sunday Times. Then everybody comes over. In the process, I glean all kinds of information.

What luxury, this bourgeois peace!

I am, as Mona said, an aristocrat.

I want to capture her like a rare bird to keep me company. Let her sing to me, all the time.

Overhead, two very earthy vapor-like streaks turn muddy green.

Acceptance of contradictions is a lesson in seeking serenity.

Crumbs drop on our faux oriental carpet.

Paul, a Greek, has been completely overwhelmed by the intensity of our lives.

Ups are always followed by downs. Yes, I know, remember the Wright Brothers.

~*~

For the full story, click here: BIG INCA.

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