The man in the hat’s great-grandmother knew a man who wore a beret who ran for pubic office in Singapore, Huntington Station New York, where the Sines Food and Drugs Co. made Lithium and tincture of Gravol, Setubal Portugal, where the Cabovisao Televisao por Cabo had a monopoly over television and radio broadcasting, Roscrea County Tipperary Ireland, Manchester the City of Manchester, Stockholm Stockholms Lan Sweden, Maracaibo Zulia Venezuela, Atlanta Georgia, where he also ran for the chancellery of the Georgia Institute of Technology, Tayibe in the township of HaMerkaz Israel, an Unknown Organization in an equally unknown place, Boston Massachusetts, where he again ran for the chancellery, but this time of Colleges of the Fenway, Brisbane Queensland, Australasia, Budapest UPC Magyarorszag Kft, Hungary, 79.97.27.# 27 ½ Ireland and San Antonio Texas , where he also ran for the title of professor emeritus of the Institute for the Study of Dogs with Bear Cocks. The man who wore a beret’s greatest desire was to be voted chancellor of chancellors, a position he hungered for like a dog with a bear cock on a bone.
A pheasant gray sky, clouds like mischievous children pissing in the wind, the shamble leg man awoke to another day in another week in another month in another year in the same clothes under the same pheasant gray sky. Today was the day that the shamble leg man was to have a carbuncle removed from his eyelid. The carbuncle had bothered him for some time, his eye filling up with puss, a scabby redness forming around the labia of is eyelid, dots floating and darting across his vision. The eye-surgeon ensured him it wasn’t cataracts or a deadening of the ocular-nerve that was causing him all this bother, but a cuprous boil that had woven itself into the flap of his eyelid. ‘You eat far too much fish’ said the eye-surgeon, ‘fish poisoned with copper, I suspect’.
A pheasant gray sky, clouds like mischievous children pissing in the wind, the shamble leg man awoke to another day in another week in another month in another year in the same clothes under the same pheasant gray sky. Today was the day that the shamble leg man was to have a carbuncle removed from his eyelid. The carbuncle had bothered him for some time, his eye filling up with puss, a scabby redness forming around the labia of is eyelid, dots floating and darting across his vision. The eye-surgeon ensured him it wasn’t cataracts or a deadening of the ocular-nerve that was causing him all this bother, but a cuprous boil that had woven itself into the flap of his eyelid. ‘You eat far too much fish’ said the eye-surgeon, ‘fish poisoned with copper, I suspect’.
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