Saturday, July 7, 2012

B is for The Shape of Randomness


There are not enough hours in the day, he said. So he embarked on his own experiment to stretch the day into twenty-five or twenty-six hours to get ev-er-y thing DONE! With twenty-six hours - twenty-three if he counted sleep - he could change the world, he could squeeze every last thought into a reality. Some form of reality really. And as the ideas poured, more came and more came and he dropped to his knees in a catatonic state as twenty-six hours proved to be too futile. There were not enough hours in the day to give these ideas room to play. How sad. Sixty seconds, one minute, sixty minutes, one hour MORE did not stop... did not cause to halt... did not give time for more of the creation he hoped for. Just frustration and catatonic haze while the normals slept in their beds approving of another moment of nothingness...

Priest. Weary. Returns home from the city. No one to rise and anoint his head. So he does it instead.

© Tracy j H

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