If I were going to kill someone, say…Sue for example, it wouldn’t be with a twisty tie from a bread wrapper baked into a delicious enchilada casserole. That would have my fingerprints and DNA all over it. No, I would do it slowly. I would plan it out little by little, over the course of 90 years or so. Like global warming on a polar ice cap, I will ever so imperceptibly yet relentlessly chip away. By the time Sue is 98 years old, she will be so feeble and infirm, I will be able to knock her over with a feather.
I do collect feathers…sort of. I rarely keep them. I usually pick them up, look at them and throw them back down. Sue and I have taken our cameras up to City Park a couple times this summer. That’s where I find most feathers. Sue is a very good photographer. I have a photo of the Boat House from City Park that Sue took. It’s hanging up on my cubicle wall at work. Someone recently asked me if it was a post card. I actually have a lot of her photos up at work and I get lots of people looking and commenting.
Whenever I find a feather I like, a reddish brown one with cream colored spots, for example, I keep that one and put it in one of my hats. So my collection isn’t all that big, but I am always looking. I once bought a bag of feathers from the hobby store, but I don’t like them much. They’re still in the bag packed away in a box. If I ever want to knock someone over with a feather, I have a whole bag of them.
Speaking of bags, I got to chat with my brother, Jeff yesterday. Jeff is an excellent source of movie recommendations. He even calls movies ‘films’. He is THAT knowledgeable. When he says a movie…I mean film…is good, you can bet your britches it really is good. He likes the same kind of movies…I mean films…that I like: Dark and disturbing with French subtitles. He said he has seen a few interesting movies…I mean films…lately and I have to remember to ask him for the titles. He also recommended Mad Men on AMC. So I’ll look for that.
Which brings me back to Sue. Our weekend is coming up. Maybe we can watch a movie together. I hope we go out to breakfast.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
My Impending Death
Yesterday, I received a form letter from a literary agent who said that if I don't hear from her again within three weeks, to assume that she does not want to represent me. I found a book called "How to Get a Literary Agent" and downloaded it to my Kindle. I was inspired by Frank McCourt to write a memoir, and I'm not going to let either of us down. It took months to write it, and if it takes even longer to find an agent, then that is what I am going to do because it's all part of the process.
Phyllis is kind enough to make me lunch for work when it is her day off. Even on the days when she goes to work, she will cut up some musk melon or make a snack plate, something like that. Last night, I had chicken enchiladas. They were really good. Plenty of chicken, cheese, tortillas and black olives. There was also a special treat in one of the big bites I shoveled into my gaping maw, and that was a metal twisty tie from the tortilla package. I choked and had to be rushed to the ER. They had to drill a hole into my windpipe to get out the metal twisty tie.
I took Pete for a bike ride yesterday and there was a big loose dog that circled us. It looked like a wolf, and had probably come down from Canada to feast on pets. It took one look at Pete and ran for the hills because Pete is no one to mess with. He has that look about him, like someone who enjoys drawing blood, even when he is tied to a bicycle.
If we ever have to call the police due to an intruder or because Phyllis is trying to kill me, the police will probably shoot Pete because he will try to attack them. Think about this: was the twisty tie in my lunch an accident? Phyllis seems kind and gentle and likes to watch old movies on TCM. You wouldn't think someone like that could be a heartless killer, but you can't be too careful when it comes to your own life. From now on, I'm going to chew my lunch very carefully, and I'm going to be very nice to Phyllis. I'm going to buy her a present. It's going to be a surprise. It's going to be some t-shirts, but I won't tell her until I get them. That should make my lunch safe to eat.
The spice finch is still alive. We used to have two, but one died. When one of them was a baby, it got caught on a wicker nest and almost bled to death. Phyllis saved its life by building it a little ramp so it could eat and drink. The one that is still alive went through a period of a few days where it looked like it was dying, laying on the bottom of the cage and losing its feathers. Phyllis gave it food and water on the bottom of the cage, and it is fine now. Okay, maybe she didn't try to kill me with the twisty tie, because if you're going to save a little bird, you're probably not going to try to choke someone to death. It just doesn't fit the pattern. I'm feeling better about that.
P.S. That stuff about going to the E.R. was a lie. But it could have happened. That stuff about the wolf was also a lie. It really was a big dog, though.
Phyllis is kind enough to make me lunch for work when it is her day off. Even on the days when she goes to work, she will cut up some musk melon or make a snack plate, something like that. Last night, I had chicken enchiladas. They were really good. Plenty of chicken, cheese, tortillas and black olives. There was also a special treat in one of the big bites I shoveled into my gaping maw, and that was a metal twisty tie from the tortilla package. I choked and had to be rushed to the ER. They had to drill a hole into my windpipe to get out the metal twisty tie.
I took Pete for a bike ride yesterday and there was a big loose dog that circled us. It looked like a wolf, and had probably come down from Canada to feast on pets. It took one look at Pete and ran for the hills because Pete is no one to mess with. He has that look about him, like someone who enjoys drawing blood, even when he is tied to a bicycle.
If we ever have to call the police due to an intruder or because Phyllis is trying to kill me, the police will probably shoot Pete because he will try to attack them. Think about this: was the twisty tie in my lunch an accident? Phyllis seems kind and gentle and likes to watch old movies on TCM. You wouldn't think someone like that could be a heartless killer, but you can't be too careful when it comes to your own life. From now on, I'm going to chew my lunch very carefully, and I'm going to be very nice to Phyllis. I'm going to buy her a present. It's going to be a surprise. It's going to be some t-shirts, but I won't tell her until I get them. That should make my lunch safe to eat.
The spice finch is still alive. We used to have two, but one died. When one of them was a baby, it got caught on a wicker nest and almost bled to death. Phyllis saved its life by building it a little ramp so it could eat and drink. The one that is still alive went through a period of a few days where it looked like it was dying, laying on the bottom of the cage and losing its feathers. Phyllis gave it food and water on the bottom of the cage, and it is fine now. Okay, maybe she didn't try to kill me with the twisty tie, because if you're going to save a little bird, you're probably not going to try to choke someone to death. It just doesn't fit the pattern. I'm feeling better about that.
P.S. That stuff about going to the E.R. was a lie. But it could have happened. That stuff about the wolf was also a lie. It really was a big dog, though.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)