Forty-Fifth Paradox Writing

The sky is falling!

Or actually, the sky fell.

Yesterday it fell through my ceiling,

Landing square on my slug bug.

Ice from an airplane experts said.

I say the sky’s playing games with me,

And he never said no tag-backs.

Some spouses squabble over life-insurance, others cash and jewels. Oddly, we had those all worked out. We had more dire issues to deal with in our marriage. I had to take drastic measures; I didn’t have time to see a marriage counselor.

I tried running upstairs to quell my rage. Over and over again I washed my hands, trying to think about happier things: pink roses on our first date, warmth in our first kiss. Still, all I could think about was how he had insulted my taste.

And so I went down to the kitchen where he washed the dishes, the very fine china he had insisted eating fast food with. I grabbed one of the steak knives he had just washed, turned it in my hand, and watched him die. He shouldn’t have insulted my taste in tacos.

The gun cocked as he raised it toward her. “Give me your money.” His eyes stared at her own eyes firmly, holding an empty sack in his hands.

The room stood empty, everyone else had fled the moment the gun came out. Unfortunately, the barista had to earn her wages, and so she stayed. “No.” She drummed one set of fingers on the counter, while she hid the other set from view.

“Don’t make me shoot.” His eyes narrowed, as sweat began to trickle down his left temple.

“Don’t make me.” Her hidden hand pulled out her own gun, which she used to mirror his actions.

His gun thudded to the floor as his feet swept through the door as fast as they could take him.

She set down the gun and picked up the phone, dialing the police. With a unshaken voice she told the dispatcher the details of her latest adventure. “You might want to arrest this guy before I have to use my Christmas present on him. I’d hate to have to waste this ammo.”

They covered their eyes in the bright sunlight, forgetting how such light could sting after so much darkness. Every color, every smell, every sound overwhelmed their senses, but they didn’t dare go back. Five long months the two of them had spent in isolation cells, and the wash of faces and bodies shattered them to the core. Still, they held hands, so they would not be separated again.

Five months of watching personality cult propaganda, five months of pacing around their cells, five months of losing time. Now time was theirs. Now the world was theirs. As for their souls, they had forfeited those long ago to the one Person the government could confiscate them from.

Dear Camelback High School Librarian,

Enclosed in this package is two long overdue books. Hopefully those poor bird-watchers didn’t miss them. It’s too bad that I packed them away before I could use them for my report. To this day, I’m still not sure if my teacher noticed or not when I gave my presentation in class.

I’m pretty sure though, if she’s still around, that Ms. Whatever-Her-Name-Was has an exact count of how many days of my two cents that I owe. Hopefully this check covers it all (knowing her, the rates may have changed.) May that likely retired librarian sleep peacefully at night from now on. If she hasn’t retired, allow me to apologize to any students under her jurisdiction.

Yours Truly,

A student from the class of ‘58

We marched for Cambyses;

We marched to the oracle;

We marched to take her down;

We marched to cast her into the sand;

We marched to bury her body  in the sand,

to the place we would all return.

_________________

We marched for Cambyses;

We marched for the son of Cyrus;

We marched for the King of Persia;

We marched to make him and his advisors proud;

We marched to be remembered above all Persian armies;

We marched to be remembered beyond the sand,

the place we would soon return.

______________

We marched to be lost;

We marched to be found;

We marched to leave arrowheads and silver bracelets;

We marched to leave a thousand skulls grinning at the sky;

We marched into the sand;

We marched into the sand,

and to sand we returned.

A man with his head in the clouds (at least 3 feet closer than most) seeks a woman not afraid of heights. He’s not afraid to break world records for the sake of her love, and he enjoys installing light-bulbs, hanging curtains, and viewing life from a distance. Man works as a part time farmer, and isn’t afraid to admit needing support as he walks high above common ground.

We wish him luck.

Thinking about you.

I’ve been thinking about you  a lot recently. With all your recent accomplishments, it’s hard not to. I know our relationship’s been a bit rocky lately, with all the listening devices and undercover informants serving as your customers. I had to keep tabs on you somehow.

I’ll gladly accept your busted drugs as gifts to my investigation, and give you this card (and the right to remain silent) as a thank you. The jail cell might not seem like much, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.

Lawfully yours,

The Police Department

You’ll all die,

Unless you watch our cast.

Watch our show,

And we’ll do our best to keep the terrorists and the Swine Flu at bay.

(Oh, excuse us, we mean H1N1. We don’t want to offend the swine.)

Drive up our ratings,

And we just might stop the mudslinging,

Or maybe we’ll wallow in the dirty stories just a bit more,

(We want to make more cash for our commercials.)

So, please keep watching,

We want to make you happy

With our depressing news.

Kidney for Sale! Kidney for Sale! Black market kidney for Sale! Costly kidney for sale!

Comes with pot-infected vessles, but from an otherwise healthy owner. Original owner can not guarantee his moral health or mental heath.

Kidney comes complete self-doubt, incrimination, and a lack of ethical boundaries. Buy at own risk (and the risk of others.)