Saturday, February 1, 2014


I am in a hallway with another person, when a tall thin young man with a long pointed knife comes at us to do us harm.  I struggle for the knife and wrestle it away, stabbing him in the back; and he bleeds and dies.  From then on I am regarded an unlikely heroine, saving both the other person and myself from horrible slashing.

I go into action sparing my friend and myself by plunging the knife in.

Immediately I begin crying for the life I ended and must apologize to his neighbors, a group of belligerent low-brows who endlessly laud the dead man's attributes and see me as murderer.

At last they are persuaded by my genuine sorrow over the matter and we part with hugs.

Next moment I am off to the carnival and contest others in a parachute jump, the first person to the bottom being the winner.  I shoot down like a rock stopping in a timely fashion to spare broken legs and I win.

I plummet like a rock to the bottom

However I am disqualified for not registering first.

Damn you, administrative red tape!


  1. I could interpret this, of course. I did, after all, get an A in "Cinema as an Art Form" and can interpret movies I've never even seen. Just ask Middle Sis.

  2. Feel free. Last night was a class reunion banquet with candles everywhere and waking up in bed with a male classmate exploring my ever potty tummy. WE WERE JUST TALKING!

  3. And what did we have to eat before we went to bed?