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Keeping the Peace · 2005-09-12

by Sam

          There was this guy. He was driving a dark blue pickup truck. He was looking at some girl on the side of the road. I noticed him as he passed by my house. I keep a lookout from my second floor bedroom. I keep the town safe. The guy in the pickup deserved what he got.

          If I stopped to think every time I did something my whole system would fall apart. This would be bad. Everything has a place and I like to make sure it stays that way. If you move a thing then I think you should move it back when you’re done. It only makes sense.

          He craned his neck to get a good look at her as she bent over to zip up her backpack. About a minute later I saw him coming back down the street, this time much more slowly. The girl was obviously waiting for someone. I don’t think it was he.

          Hair is a funny thing. It does strange things to people sometimes. It blows and flows in the wind and acts like a flag beckoning you to follow. Its fragrance often whispers through the air and tells you things about her day. Skin is nice too.

          He pulled up beside her and said “broccoli” very loudly. He might have said some other things too, but broccoli is all I could hear from my lookout. She waved her mop of hair back and forth. I don’t think she wanted his produce. He shouted “solipsist!” at her and was off. She gave him the finger. That’s when I did it.

          What can be said of road signs that mislead? What can be said of large electromagnets lying in wait? What can be said of giant crushing machines with big teeth and choppy things? What can ever be known about screams in the woods when nobody is around to hear them?

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