The sky fell toppling onto the man in the hat’s head, his cap tippling onto the bare earthen ground. Days such as these, and there were many, miserable indifferent days, set the man in the hat into a tizzy, not knowing whether to run cowering for cover, or stay abed thinking of ways to count to one-thousand-and-one backwards, the knuckle of his head pressed crushed into the bed sheets. The Herstal Liege Bros. bought lambskin from the Alkmaar Koninklijke Lamb Bros., the Herstal Liege Bros. making dining gloves and women’s underclothes at cut rate prices. Days such as these, days when lambskin and women’s underclothes come at a high cost, the Alkmaar Koninklijke Lamb Bros. cornering the market on lambskin and olefin, their leisure time spent sailing sporting yachts and sidesaddling galloping horses with white ivory neighing teeth, anything is possible, even the impossibly impossible. ‘…listen to the spikenard (nardostachys jatamansi) for he has something of interest to say…’ said the man in the hat knitting words with the brittle red ends of his fingers. Spikenard (nardostachys jatamansi) lambskin olefin oilskin dross and piddle all of it. Knit knitting with the red blistered ends of his fingers, brittle rough hewn bract. So it goes so. The Herstal Liege Bros. seldom do seldom what’s expected of them. Buying cut rate lambskin at cutthroat prices, cut from the finest flax and hide. Up from the cellar of the Alkmaar Koninklijke Lamb Bros. warehouse, bale upon bale of soft lambskin hide. Sold at cut rate cutthroat prices to Spikenard and Herschel, purveyors of handcrafted slattern’s gloves and women’s underclothes. The sky is falling; time to duck.
The next day Dejesus went searching high and low, here and there, for a copy of a broadsheet newsprint print newspaper. Wednesdays he liked to read the horoscope page, finding the small print newsprint horoscopes a joy to read and muse upon. He found a copy of the Friar’s Gazette hidden beneath a pile of early morning rubbish, the sports and business pages folded at the top corners. After shaking the mud and hoarfrost, as it was a peculiarly cold morning, from the broadsheet, he folded the dog-eared pages of the sports and business sections in two, creased them down the spine and leisurely tossed them into the nearest dustbin. Folding the horoscope page open across his lap he began to read, his thumb wet-licked so he could turn the pages with relative ease, circumventing any chance of a paper cut or a blotching stain of printer’s ink. Libra: Today you will barely escape the sky falling toppling onto your head. Aquarius: Stay home, the sky is sure to fall. Leo: Watch the sky, carefully. Taurus: You best follow your intuitions and stay abed, the sky is a mystifying blue thing. Scorpio: You best crawl back to bed, today the sky will fall, and fall it will onto the tiptop of your head. Gemini: The sky will fall on both your heads, be careful, be quick. Pisces: Wednesdays are not your day, go back to bed and wile away the rest of the day. He placed the folded paper on the bench and reached for his umbrella. Having forgotten to bring his umbrella with him he made a paper boat out of the newspaper and placed it, keel first, on the top of his head.
All this had him thinking, what if what if the sky were to fall and fall onto the top of my head, what if what then? He reached for the business section of the paper, unfolded it, smoothing out the crease, and began to read. The Herstal Liege Bros., known for their eye-fetching women’s gloves and underclothes, also know to purchase lambskin from the Alkmaar Koninklijke Lamb Bros., are having a white sale: spikenard (nardostachys jatamansi) lambskin olefin soft women’s gloves and dainties at cut rate prices. Doors open at 12 noon sharp. Late comers will be asked to queue in front of the store, no elbowing permitted. He placed the now refolded newspaper on the bench a second time and walked away, the Friar’s Gazette whipping and lashing like a kite tail in the blustery morning gale.
The next day Dejesus went searching high and low, here and there, for a copy of a broadsheet newsprint print newspaper. Wednesdays he liked to read the horoscope page, finding the small print newsprint horoscopes a joy to read and muse upon. He found a copy of the Friar’s Gazette hidden beneath a pile of early morning rubbish, the sports and business pages folded at the top corners. After shaking the mud and hoarfrost, as it was a peculiarly cold morning, from the broadsheet, he folded the dog-eared pages of the sports and business sections in two, creased them down the spine and leisurely tossed them into the nearest dustbin. Folding the horoscope page open across his lap he began to read, his thumb wet-licked so he could turn the pages with relative ease, circumventing any chance of a paper cut or a blotching stain of printer’s ink. Libra: Today you will barely escape the sky falling toppling onto your head. Aquarius: Stay home, the sky is sure to fall. Leo: Watch the sky, carefully. Taurus: You best follow your intuitions and stay abed, the sky is a mystifying blue thing. Scorpio: You best crawl back to bed, today the sky will fall, and fall it will onto the tiptop of your head. Gemini: The sky will fall on both your heads, be careful, be quick. Pisces: Wednesdays are not your day, go back to bed and wile away the rest of the day. He placed the folded paper on the bench and reached for his umbrella. Having forgotten to bring his umbrella with him he made a paper boat out of the newspaper and placed it, keel first, on the top of his head.
All this had him thinking, what if what if the sky were to fall and fall onto the top of my head, what if what then? He reached for the business section of the paper, unfolded it, smoothing out the crease, and began to read. The Herstal Liege Bros., known for their eye-fetching women’s gloves and underclothes, also know to purchase lambskin from the Alkmaar Koninklijke Lamb Bros., are having a white sale: spikenard (nardostachys jatamansi) lambskin olefin soft women’s gloves and dainties at cut rate prices. Doors open at 12 noon sharp. Late comers will be asked to queue in front of the store, no elbowing permitted. He placed the now refolded newspaper on the bench a second time and walked away, the Friar’s Gazette whipping and lashing like a kite tail in the blustery morning gale.
No comments:
Post a Comment