Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Bowls


and what they might contain.  Shape and potential.

Now imagine paper and what might be harvested therein.

And why am I fondly remembering the 2 baby quail Ann and I spotted at San Pedro Park yesterday?

I eat artichokes.
I eat mangoes.
I don't eat quail.

1 comment:

  1. cp 251/72186

    Painting

    She walks into a a split level ranch house in the middle of a large field and sees a dark-haired woman lying in the fireplace grate, coals smoldering under her. She sees a button to the left of the mantel and pushes it. The flames go higher and start to cinge her. She tries to pull the body out of the fire but it is limp like a rag doll. She lets go of it. She wonders if they will accuse her of murder. She wipes all the surfaces clean with a towel and goes to the door, hoping no one has seen her. As she leaves she remembers she has forgotten to turn off the button.

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