novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i am tired of crying and kicking her on the side of the freeway. so the car, like any intelligent beast, sensed its upcoming doom and prematurely pooped out on me while cars raced past us doing 80 in the fast lanes. slower and slower and a rattling. i egged it towards walsh brothers, two homely brother mechanics touched by my tears and lack of a wallet (why do i always lose things on pivotal days?) who loaned me ten bucks, took my car for the night and pushed me in the direction of the nearest bart station, half an hour away. zaftig baby, i am sorry. you have cancer, you are fantasia and the nothing is eating at you in bits and loops, and black ooze is spreading onto every parking place you grace. and the newest ooze is now flourescent green. why have you suddenly rejected your coolant? are you out to get me, my dilapidated volvo? 7:31 pm - 03.19.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||