Monday, June 2, 2014

It was unusually quiet at work, so Ender, an aspiring writer with big hair and even bigger ideas, and I wrote the hours away, playing a very relaxed version of Consequences. 


His favourite word was nonsensical and he applied it to everything and everyone, including his sons. They were a stupid few, crazed for eggplant and horseradish and river. What could be a solution? A solution to everything he'd ever wanted in the world, namely a daughter called something pretty like Viola- an incredible symphonic element. Good by itself, better with company. A chance for perfection. A girl should always have green eyes, and long brown hair, and at least one dimple, or so was his opinion. Nothing could beat zatar.


We must protect our environment like small babies. I guess that's why they call them cabbage patch kids, all round and frilly and kid-like. Always grinning at the thought of her sweet potato. He loved his mum and that's why the girls loved him and would chase him down streets and around mountains, shrieking his name. Rasputin! Rasputin! Why must you devastate me your ecstatic nature!

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