Put together an idea and sell it without breaking open the soft body of a bird

Posted: September 11, 2014 in Uncategorized

After midnight, three owls flew in alternating alternative shapes. Before dawn, the children all slept, trying to dream of anything but nightmares. Charles stroked his mustache and wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he spread the bills all around him and tried to find the money for each one. Daring to let one dangle precariously from the side of the table, Charles hoped it would fall, that it would hit the floor and slip through a crack in the wood, disappearing from the land of humanity in one fluttering drop. Ending his suffering, he closed the checkbook and took a sip from his tumbler of rum, staring out at the waving purple trees in the dark, dark distance. You know how the story ends.


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