The Dream Series
#3
5-23-07
Grease slid across the table of the upscale fast-food restaurant, patterned by small hands of greater intelligence. We felt the air move inside and we knew we couldn’t leave this place, even if it meant giving up a strong, meaningless tradition. Yells and screams followed by tantrums and cries escaped their mouths, but barbecue sauce stuck to their hands the way super-glue does.
If only it could stay this way.
The purell handwipes cleanse the children of their filthy innocence, bathing them in a river of reality, throwing them onto the playground of life. Cliches are too big, too wide. Can you turn them sideways to fit the doorframe? Good, now tell me again how this works? Oh, right, the children lose their innocence and granduer, they become hateful and in the way all the time. Monkeys swing happily from trees. Slowly we decay, unaware of purgatory.
(Shout-out to DYWC 2007 S1)
