He was brought back to reality one afternoon as he read through the old posts. He realized that he still stirs his coffee with the same old chopsticks, but the coffee has gotten much better.

The old man gazed searchingly into the vast horizon, the sun just peeking its head over the distant fields before its last wink goodnight.

“Where, my good son?”

The boy pointed into the eternal evening, arm extended toward forever. He looked into his father’s phlegmatic eyes. The old man continued to search the barren eternity.

“I want to go to that distant garden!” the boy exclaimed.

His happy soul could be seen behind his eyes, its waves crashing upon the pupiled banks.

“How long will it take to get there father?”

The old man’s eyes dropped to an even deeper sadness.

“It’s going to take a lot of years, my good son.”

He continued walking into his bleak evening, the happy boy steadfast at his side, as his mind returned to dreams of the sea.

That was 24 years ago. I still hate carnivals, being alone, and you.

“The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees oneself of the chains that shackle the spirit… the arbitrariness of the constraint only serves to obtain precision of execution.”
Igor Stravinsky

Mr. Stravinsky was of course speaking in reference to musical composition here, but I believe you, my readers at home, can make the connections to other applications.

Mr. Gamble chose to turn on his sardonic charm . He replaced quaintness with near insult [in every phrase] and thus knocked us dead with his witticisms. At the least it was an interesting business meeting.

Mr. Gamble believed in the power of subtlety: effective, but of course only effective against those smart enough to grasp it. Those smart enough to grasp it of course: the only people he respected or liked.

• written on paper people
• etched in stone people
• nostalgic and scarved
• leather and suede
• sports people
• pink, charged, and hot air ballooned
• advertisement people
• lavatory people
• nervous platform people
• plastic and lost
• robotic and incognito
• sex
• star
• excitement
• boredom people
• made from this or that (colored flag people)

She saw each person leave one stop at a time, dignified like buildings, or weakly meandering, waiting for someone to come along and guide them.

Unlike those people, Ellen would ride the train to the end, to the very last stop, only to reach her destination alone and well aware of it.

"a frozen moment when everyone sees what is on the end of every fork"

Edna was stricken with desire, as if suddenly possessed by some demon or spirit. Maybe it was her internal clock or human nature. Maybe it’s that she subconsciously desired to conform to her peers.

Technicalities aside, at 72 it was time to dye her hair in the brightest of oranges. The message was clear, though leaving much room to her imagination for size and style of her looming permanent.