Sunday, April 12, 2009

The Only Real Thing

Shen scrabbled for purchase. All around them, the mists of illusion trembled, like an oil slick on the surface of a pond. Gripping his handhold, Shen reached out and brushed the surface. A tree shuddered and popped at his touch.

“We are lost in the pathways of deception,” Utvar intoned. He folded his legs into the lotus position and balanced on the engine. “We cling to the only real thing in the universe and seek the truth.”

Shen turned. There was not much room. “But why is the only real thing a lawnmower?”

“The ways of the universe are mysterious.”


Anonymous said...

happy easter!

“My feet hurt,” Peter whined, turning to his cousin fidgeting across the den.

“Mine, too.”

“What are you doing?” Peter asked while combing and teasing his cotton tail. April showers always de-fluffed his fluff and un-puffed his puff.

“I’m thumpin’! That’s why they call me Thumper!”

“Right . . . You just ate too many peeps during the Great Trip.”

“I’m twitterpated.”

Each Easter was always the same. Peter pleaded for someone to keep Thumper from re-telling the story. His uncle hippity-hopped across the den and shoved a carrot in Thumper’s mouth.

“Gee . . . ain’t I a stinker?”

Scattercat said...


Happy Easter, Anonymous!

(You're much nicer than when you're on 4chan or YouTube...)