Wednesday, July 23, 2008


The puppy whom Canada had named Absolom, began to yelp in what sounded like a bad fossetto.

"What did you do to Absolom? He's barking like a girl."

"I don't know maybe the stimulation of walking's too much or maybe he just doesn't like the stupid name you gave him."


An explosion knocked Canada into the trunk of a nearby tree. She'd often thought that flora growing out of side walks was unnatural. Today life seemed to be affirming all her pet peeves.

Absolom was singed in a way that improved his complexion, while Daly was left exclaiming, "Holy Moly."

Not swearing when you have perfect reason to is a bad sign. Simon's house had just exploded in front of them, their being outside and not in was some consolation. But the unexpected explosion was only the beginning of the (up until then) happy trio's bewilderment. Simon burst through the roof and appeared to be flying. Was he running on rocket power? Flames were blazing from who knows where, but he seemed perfectly happy as a human comet, the destruction of his property notwithstanding.

Daly's suspension of disbelief snapped. After that he didn't know what to do.

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