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Tomorrow
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1892
It's been a grueling week, most nights not escaping until after 11:00 PM.
Which wouldn't be a big deal except that I start at 10:00 AM, and factoring in the bus each way (say an hour because I don't plan for it being late) makes for a long week.
Tonight, in appreciation for my lack of complaining and hard work I was allowed to go early, but am too beat to make something of the opportunity. Come home, plan tomorrows garage sales.
A couple of appreciative emails on the Haunted Table for sale, one possibly interested (must schedule the visit in), there's the Lottomax lottery tickets (50 million jackpot, with an estimated 20 million dollar subsidiary prizes); bought too late to inspire any real hope or get the fantasy rolling, but if I can hold off on checking them for a few days I might be able to keep the dream alive....
I could catch up on my child support...
Now, finally, an almost empty inbox, a pile of work coming in (that can wait, I warned them I'm on a tight schedule!!) but no new emails tonight, merely a blended scotch, few minutes surfing the net and then bed...
Climbing Mt. Everest
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1805
I'm with a large group of people and we're climbing Mt. Everest.
We're going for the top, although we won't get there today, we're on a stone track winding through the jungle, stairs up, there are many villages along the way with the Stupas and the Temples, we've reached one of the last and everyone has found a place to bunk for the night.
Dion and I, we've decided to press on, you can see the top of the mountain from here, walking through the village we run into some trouble - shots are fired, a frightened local, someone throws hundred dollar bills at us to buy our silence.
You can see the top of the mountain, almost straight up from where we are, but it's still covered in jungle, it's a false summit, when we get to the top we'll see the real summit but we want to climb to the top of the rise and see the view, where we're going, and so we keep climbing although daylight is fading fast, it's not mountain climbing so much as walking up a stone staircase in the side of the mountain, we should really break off and look for a place to sleep in the woods and I wonder that the altitude has not begun to take it's toll...
For Sale - Haunted Antique Table
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 2666
This downsizing is addictive. By the time I'm done I'll be ready to live in a shoebox in no time...well, at the rate it takes me to write copy, maybe a year...but still.
But copy sells the table (or so they say)...
Haunted Table for Sale:
For pretty much the same price you could have a pressboard table made in China with a fancy Swedish sounding name (like “frendli” or “Bjork-borg”), or a small 27’ HD TV, you could buy a fine antique table (seats 4-6).
Freak
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1695
A troubled nap interrupted by the daily call from Telus.
I'm at her place, but it's not, there's an open door and movers are carrying large mattresses, she's staying in a hotel. She's changed, pierced her nose and lips and has large bangles interlocking, she's behaving strangely, seductive but odd; when she takes off her shirt there's a large purple birthmark between her breasts, over top of it grows a mat of hair...the doors open, movers coming and going in the hall ...
It's not her, not who I remember anyways, and I ask her about the piercings, the purple birthmark, it strikes me that she must be sick, have a terminal illness, cancer, but she ignores me, and I wonder why she's staying at this hotel - outside it's raining, grey, drizzling.
She wants to go downstairs to the buffet, they have a great creme pudding she tells me in a way that tells me she's been here before and I wonder with who, there are things she's not telling, we go to the buffet and there's a host of people talking, in one room there's a pile of desserts around a chocolate fountain, the other there are these tiny puddings, off-brown, star shapes and soggy crackers, people are lining up for them and they look repulsive, the light everywhere is dim and grey...
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