Sunday, May 11, 2014

 

Boxes


“Who died and made him God? He’s half our
age and gets us trembling! It’s a farce.”

“Later.”

"He’s incompetent and we’re heading
for disaster!”

“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.

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