Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The moon sat on the surface of the water like a weighted bobber, and she leaned across and kissed me to let me know the end was near. I shuddered like a question, believing that this was a just another pair of loaded dice. I could not find it in my heart to pour my self into the pot, to become a member of the new world order, a soothsayer. I declined her second attempt for a kiss, and the moon became stale.

1 comment:

Mac said...

I can feel the cool air off the bay...