Sunday, November 12, 2006

I will write an obsessive story today

I will write an obsessive story today about daycares and girls but actually about grocery store parking lots where I'm afraid I'll be struck by luxury sedans. Because old drivers are distracted. They know exactly where to go but look confused and swivel their heads side to side and don't see me in their luxury sedans with power windows.

I follow on old lady home in my little Honda hatchback, drive past her house, then park my little Honda hatchback down the street and walk slowly along the sidewalk to the driveway of the old lady. I carefully observe this old lady removing groceries from her trunk.

The grocery bags are made from paper and are lost and sad and alone in their new surroundings. The old lady's hair is gray and soft looking and her hands soothe the paper bags' sadness. The paper bags and the old lady are happy together. Because each has a purpose and is fulfilling that purpose.

I quietly climb a nearby tree.

I am invisible like a ninja. I am transparent.

When the old lady looks at me, when the paper bag looks at me, they see only the tree-bark and brown leaves. I shimmy out on a thick branch.

The old lady has her groceries on the cold gravel. Her trunk is closed and her luxury sedan is useless. The groceries are cold and want inside the old lady's house. The groceries wait patiently on the cold gravel.

I scream, I leap from the tree, I land in the gravel, I say "Pay attention. Can I help bring your groceries inside? They are cold but patient and you are old and confused."

Then I stab the old lady because she scares me.

She might kidnap the girls from my daycare, take them to AM/PM, buy them hotdogs, wait until they become useless consumers, then release them into the dirty abandoned forests.

I would get old and buy a luxury sedan.

These kidnapped girls would follow me and stab me.

And my groceries would be cold and alone too.

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