Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Lone, Stranger



The time in Berkeley, at fast food, when two panhandlers, young, drugged, came to O and F and asked Have spare change?  

And O and F, respectively, right away, said No and shook head (right away) with pursed lips No.

And the two panhandlers, drugged and young, rolled back in their lunch booth seats, holding their sides, laughing till there was no sound.  

A Cosmic laughter, one where the social rubber hits the existential roadway and draws high beams on one's own fate.  It was written!

They laughed half-way through our happy meal.  They laughed until the dribble dried on the side of their chin.


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2 comments:

  1. This is really a nice little piece. Maybe my favorite of yours so far.

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  2. Willow,

    Thank you. Kind as ever!

    You probably have experienced a range of puzzlement at how people respond to what you write.

    I NEVER know how one thing or another will be received.

    Some inner censorship, yes.

    Some greater or lesser feeling of achievement based on past stuff, yes.

    I refrained from saying that this was 'based on a true experience', since many readers reflectively believe that in default.

    What I try for -- and you seem to, as well -- is not to rely on the content for significance, but on the expressive way it's laid out.

    TFool (as 'theoretician')

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