daily stream 6-16-02

Rummy is more talkative of the two. He argues in insistent, pointed phrases, tempered by the caution of age and usually waxing from a low growl to a sharp bark all in one utterance.

daily stream 6-15-08

The blue grey disc described a counter-intuitive arc as the wind caught it and spun it hard to the right - directly into the fluttering embrace of a tall sycamore. A few branches and leaves fell softly into the drain creek below, but... nothing more. Alas, poor Reaper! Will you forever remain aloft, only revealed annually by your captor's winter defoliation, like a Pompeian skeleton clutching a beloved toy? Or will you only briefly be beholden to your arboreal host, merely biding your time until a strong enough bluster and lucky enough traveler team up to put you back into play? However temporarily, your seed has been sown and the next time you blossom it will be for another. And if they throw anything like your old companion, the process will repeat itself fairly shortly.

daily stream 6-14-08

A large family, white, at least three generations worth, dressed in unremarkable middle class suburban Texan pastels, sitting down at dinner in a local mexican food restaurant. Digging in. Stuffing about four baskets worth of delicious chips and salsa in their faces while they wait for the rich entrees to arrive. The wide brims of their water glasses extend just beyond the catches of their mouths so that a few glistening beads escape and run down their jowls every time they pause their inhalación de tostada to drink. Their faces, aglow with alimentary satisfaction, boast knowing smiles as they listen to the litany of each other's adventures, old and new. All in all an ordinary sight, but for the teenage boy seated at one far end of the table, closest to our own table, wearing a frayed and faded jean jacket with the arms ripped out, an appropriately harsh band name scrawled on the back at shoulder level in dark red puff paint surrounded by white this and that, skulls and whathaveyou. The jacket leads the eyes to the crown of this glaring domestical juxtaposition, consisting of a meager wave perched on a crew cut, effecting a penciltop eraser used just three our four times. It's a scene from a sitcom. All it needs is a sarcastic grandma and a orange furry alien chasing the cat around.