Monday, March 25, 2013

Redemption out of nowhere

It gnawed through the inner casing like strawberry flavored Twizzlers, exposing raw, hot wire.

Instinct said to let it go as nothing good ever comes from live electricity except an obvious painful jolt. So homilies aside, imagine the shock or lack thereof when the expected fireworks never materialized. Save for a last minute reminder as a courtesy out of curiosity or maybe in spite really to recoup a lost vestige of dignity did another chance resuscitate previously dashed hopes, a primaveral spud ready to spout.

Who could predict such a change of heart then to befall the sanctioned pomp and circumstance, to be cut off without reprieve, a persona non grata of your own free will.

"Silly rabbit, pink is for kids! 


Or at least dumb chinchillas clueless about how to color me beautiful...," yelled the giant leprechaun into the realm of the senses before disrobing to eat his annual bowl of sugary cereal. 

His warning went unheeded, though as a barely audible peep momentarily broke the imposed radio silence, forcing t
ime to move on possibly. But fools do dive in headfirst.

And again, once... twice... three times the sucker, a hard-candied outer shell easily and irresistibly crunched to reach the fractured soft caramel core. Thus the mortar-boarded and bespectacled owl who actually gave a hoot said to no one in particular.

Why not just continue to let the saliva melt down the reactor because even Joe Q. Public knows shopping cures all.

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