Pricker

Everything here is bleak this, bleak that. We will see what your conclusion is. It’s as if, it’s as if you called to me and I did not answer you. It’s as if your call to me is sufficient, but your allure is such a weakling. I am unimpressed by your allure. Or, it’s as if I took my foot and squashed it inside of the squashed towel to dry it.

All over the place, after all, do you remember how I try to listen? There is a tale told about you in which you tell a better tale than this one is, one that inspires both of us—a story about something not as vague as a wet foot, veined with gray.

There it is this afternoon available from your pre­history to my present—a new reasonableness in you when you tell a person’s story from various angles seen here. Really!—men love it.

Yes, true, true, you’re grand to look at. You look like a nice tweed coat. You have such a kindly chirp too. We experience what is known as love, sexual intercourse, and friendship!

It is true it is difficult to talk to you in natural life conditions as a trusted friend.

What a day! Got up at 6:45. A few bashed heads. Your story is still the best story because you said you were chased by a bear, run over by a car—rather, banged into by one—and bitten by a snake. You say nothing about food even though you own a restau­rant. You note the weather, what time you arrive at the restaurant, that the patio is all wet.

What a day! One is supposed to be like this and get ideas one needs!