Look It Up

_ You are looking somewhat refreshed. Where do you find the time in a world wherein the onslaught is ongoing?
_ I don't find the time; I don't do anything.
_ There is a pause between the in-breath and out-breath, and vice versa. It, like you in fielding a compliment, is shattering of expectation.
_ Girlfriend wore nothing, save for a mantilla...
_ Ah, the spoils of war...
_ The spoils of war?
_ Manubiae... it's an old Latin word.
_ There aren't many new one's.
_ Oh, you'd be surprised. Read the dictionary.
_ A lace mantilla... a lot of girlfriend, and just a little lace.
_ What would you say to some Turkish coffee and some Moroccan hash?
_ I'm enjoying life as a vegetarian this here week, but the coffee sounds good.
_ I didn't know about the girlfriend.
_ There's a lot you don't know.

                                                                     <><><>

     ... The wet crow, bruising in its appearance, arriving out of nowhere, is here to feed on the babies living in the nest under the eaves. The crow is big, almost too big, for a rainy May morning; somewhere a songbird sings. We all have to eat. The big crow caws: Num-num eat 'em up!

     ... I like to occasionally answer inquiries about my well-being with stony silence.  I like to let people know, through the universal application of silence, that just because they have arrived by boat doesn't mean that we are going to be talking about yachting. Stony silence... as cool as a sea cucumber, forty fathoms down.

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