Friday, December 30, 2011

How the World Ends

Not with a bang but with whimper-growling muffled by foam.

While saner minds stood guard, even. (And sorry, Africa — like, for the millionth time.)

Apocalypse notwithstanding, it was a lovely December afternoon spent on grass.

And the world, you’ll be happy to know, was placed out-of-reach, on a shelf, where it belongs.

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