Pretzel Jacket

by on June 3, 2012 :: 0 comments

I went for a walk the other day. I stepped out with no place in mind. I was tired of seeing the same old things, and needed some fresh ideas. Sadly, each corner had old branches hanging over stop signs, bent from vandals. That 76’ Sedan Deville, still hanging on to chromed spoke wheels, was as stuck to asphalt, as I to chaos.

Ms. Waters looked nice today, her years only visible in her words I seldom heard. I happened upon a couple of mongrel dogs, locked in a distorted moment of passion that bordered on the grotesque: He pushed, thinking in; she pulled, wanting out. As the two headed in diametrically opposed concepts, Man, I thought, that has got to be painful.

Transfixed on the scene, I was struck to awareness when the afternoon newspaper landed at my feet. I cursed the paperboy then looked down to see what news the headlines had to offer. Above the big stuff was a small cube of words, a tease of what could be found if one would look inside.

Fluffing the paper like a worn pillow before bedtime, I ate the bait. The tidbit of information they thought would attract me to see. “The process need not precede the outcome.”

Backtracking home, caught in the notion, I placed the paper in Ms. Waters’ trash can, nothing more was needed from it and was more than gleeful to see, RAD Wreckers, towing the Deville away, leaving stains where leaves had piled for too long.

Ignoring the stop signs, I crossed to my yard… Something was amiss. There were no leaves or broken branches. The grass was golf course green and coiffed as tight as Ms. Waters’ weekly cut. I had been meaning to tend to it; lately it had gotten out of control. In an instant, a cold yet comforting chill slapped me, kindly setting me to see how nice things could be.

Stepping back inside, I glanced at the beauty of the yard again. I wallowed in the winds, listened to the nothing. From the corner of my view, a sight sent me laughing hysterically. Two dogs walked side by side, their tails wagged and heads bobbed in unison. How did they get free from what seemed a pretzel-like straight jacketed situation? “The process need not precede the outcome.”

editors note:

In this Heaven, prudish mutts and horny hounds will stroll alongside while the lion and the lamb spoon. Our yards will keep the length of a Marine’s hairdo too. Branches aren’t broken and the leaves stay lively and green. That Heaven sounds better than any church music, I think. – tm

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