Sunday, May 11, 2014
“Who died and made him God? He’s half our
age and gets us trembling! It’s a farce.”
"He’s incompetent and we’re heading
“Soft-pedal a bit till we’re outa here.
Then, we’ll talk. Like, really cool it!”
The lobby was all tile and the sound of the
disintegrator deafened me.
George ended in a sealed waxen box.
“I warned him but, well, bit headstrong.”
Not the first time I had addressed such a box.