Saturday Sunrise

One City summed up its response to certain of my recent comments in the following telegram: 
“IF YOU DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SEE, WHY LOOK?  STOP.”
(Hey, have I been told or what.)

 

This one little world
hired a retired sports announcer
to do a real-time, running analysis
and color-commentary
of their daily life, but he died before
he really ever got the hang of it.

 

In a fit of what he hoped would at least be faux poetic frenzy, this one chap stood at the very cliff’s edge of a tall Scotsman and cried out to the clamorous waves crashing below, “Be still, my beating heart…” and his heart cried back, “Be still yourself.”

 

One young City in a hurry
decommissioned sunrise.

 

The god of one universe announced he had a “new plan”; he wanted to test the nerve of half his creatures, and the patience of the rest; an assistant muttered, “I thought he said a NEW plan.”

J.

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