Monday, November 8, 2010


I was driving home from signing my life away in order to be an extremely well-paid relief pitcher in the Majors. It was raining and at a red light I saw a tiny woman standing at a bus stop holding shopping bags. She was quaint, miniature, and looked tired. I pulled over and watched her for a minute. Her matted brown hair clung to her cheeks in wet glops and she struggled under the weight of the bags to lift her arm to see her watch. I walked to her and considered all of the ways I could help her. I picked her up and put her in my pocket. Now she lives in my desk drawer and I take her out to dance and entertain me while Flash-heavy web sites load.

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