Admittedly, I had seen the chimp. I had. With a smile on his face and a lump of brown goo dripping from his hand.
What I did not see, not two feet above me, was the swirling, whirling motion of the room's only fan....
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I wish there was some moral or didactic quality to this work, for no other reason than to put a conventional wind to my sails, to stop a free-drift to literary oblivion; but like a typical atheist who, before his slaughter, will no doubt seek the aid of God, I too, despite contrary conviction, am forever destined to wordy, generally incoherent and long-winded canvasses of thought. James Majoros http://cavalcades.blogspot.com/
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