The girl waited for something more profound, she listened for the magic that typically follows, and then it suddenly struck her and she laughed.
“Throw those away,” she nodded to my hands. “Put your own flowers in here.”
What other items had she put into the trash that she might have forgotten?
Death became an image. Â Death became a dog sitting at the door… waiting to be fed.
“They were so crunchy and gooey and helpless.”
… surprised at how high they could leap …
… at the moment I don’t understand the nature of honesty…
“Everyday I see pretty much the same things and I have no idea what they mean.”
“Ever since I started here I used blue scissors and why should I have to change now?”
“Everyone I tell that story to believes it.”
