I volunteered to spruce a cemetery today, for dead people.
Actually, correctly, I volunteered last week, for live people; but contract law isn't my specialty.
I think logic is; and I'm not sure, now, about the logic.
Why I should get up, just because they can't. What did they do? To deserve a cleaning? I can think of all kinds of reasons, not to go. No bar, for one. Two. Make that a double.
I just fell asleep, with my head cocked against the pillow? And loaded? And I was dreaming about this road, this curvy road, that for some reason we had to drive along the lake for a long time. I got really bored, like I do, and tried to invent new ways to drive it.
I had a good way going there, to go fast, and I got bored with that; and I didn't think my mother was paying attention, she's 82, but she says, "Just lie way back, like a toboggan, and steer by grabbing the bottom edges of the car."
I did.
Hoo boy.
It was harrowing.
I gotta tell you. Harrowing.
She surprised me, for an old lady.
......
I have to go, gotta go,
else I would finish this story.
How do I know they're not going to shoot and bury me? |
