Fruit in a rare moment of peace and clarity.
It came to be, that an apple and a banana started to quarrel in front of a fruit stand. Without being an absolute fruitist, it is fact that the apple is a privileged fruit thinking itself supreme, and the banana, an absolute coward hiding beneath its yellow peel.
The pig tidied up as best as it could. After all, this was the first time in its life that it was hosting, let alone, a marital aids party. It was so excited imagining all the sexual innuendos and good times ahead. It was unfortunate the pig had short arms and legs, cause you can’t clean jack with such a detrimental shortcoming. But it carried on and tried for the next two hours.
The North Korean mouse was so giddy for two reasons. One, it was cooking up its favorite rice meal, and two, it was entertaining a guest, a long lost acquaintance, the city mouse. Its tail twitched gleefully as it ladled up the rice.
As it was, the sun set succinctly at 5 PM. Fuck Eliot, February is the cruelest month. Not enough daylight, too much night. Not enough days, too much night. This short month breeds hate and broad ambiguity, Eliot is an overrated elitist. You need to hate, but what? T.S. Eliot? Darkness? The brutal cold wind that slaps your stoic North Korean face upside the head? The stench of burning rubber that is no longer offensive? It just is. You can only hate and hate and hate.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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