The little man was having his beach time. He had been thinking about the faraway beach and a lonely evening here, just to count the waves. He looked up. The sky was perfect with billowing clouds. He waded through the wild weeds on the edge of the sand. He felt a spurt of joy, when he thought of, how far away he is from friends. Their banter always grated him. Just when he thought he was alone there, he saw an eunuch walking towards him. He croaked a curse and walked to the waves, hoping, the eunuch hasn't seen him. He was always not seen by others. This one is scrawny, he thought. The rivulets made by the retrieving waves were also scrawny. But in a moment, with a shudder he realised, the eunuch is coming straight to him. Suddenly he was half delirious. He saw a boat approaching him. He was writhing, for some sensation he felt. He saw that the boat was a Trimaran, with a tattered flag on it's stern. The sailor was pattering something to him. The scrawny eunuch was almost in a sprint now. The little man tightened his sash around his hip and ran to the waves.
He was sure he made it to the Trimaran, when he woke up to the alarm bell, just then.
all road leads to randome
As to the who.
- The south paw, who knows no direction.
- this guy, here buys beauty in abstractness, randomness. His carrots are intuitions and PG and he sometimes see a world, just beyond that thin veil,a world which is as abstract as it is so full of sense. for a living, he has taken the job of having a job. it's terrible much fun, and the blame could be on him. And most importantly don't pay heed to him. He is only as sure of things that he writes, as he is, about the next ad in the tv or the number of vertebrae in a T-rex. The words have come out on their own, and it shall be their purpose to come together and form a meaning.
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