The Pillow Man
At 1:30 p.m. a big juicy blueberry plops into the yellow cotton sofa pillow and pops. Purple berry goo smears round until the thirsty fabric sponge sucks it up like a health shake, leaving a burp of a stain behind. A perfectly delicious blueberry lost and an annoying stain gained. Cussing is of no help.
Blinking, I see that the stain has smeared into the top hat profile of a real gentleman. Tidy beard, formal jacket, and everything. No matter which way I turn the pillow I can't help looking at this high class work of art. His dapper golden eye glares down at me even when I put the pillow on the floor. High art or not, he besmirches a cozy pillow. His refined upturned nose points away whilst I politely dab his purple face with a myriad of cleaning products, none to his taste. Despite the indignity he's holding up well. Too well.
Sunbeams invitingly caress the pillow, warming it to a yellow-mellow. As lightness thaws his formality it dawns on me that we live together now. He's here to stay and I'm keeping my favorite pillow. We may not be cut from the same cloth but, by 1:50 p.m., we have become close. I doze off there on the sunny sofa, and we nap together, cheek to cheek.
Blinking, I see that the stain has smeared into the top hat profile of a real gentleman. Tidy beard, formal jacket, and everything. No matter which way I turn the pillow I can't help looking at this high class work of art. His dapper golden eye glares down at me even when I put the pillow on the floor. High art or not, he besmirches a cozy pillow. His refined upturned nose points away whilst I politely dab his purple face with a myriad of cleaning products, none to his taste. Despite the indignity he's holding up well. Too well.
Sunbeams invitingly caress the pillow, warming it to a yellow-mellow. As lightness thaws his formality it dawns on me that we live together now. He's here to stay and I'm keeping my favorite pillow. We may not be cut from the same cloth but, by 1:50 p.m., we have become close. I doze off there on the sunny sofa, and we nap together, cheek to cheek.
Comments
She reduced altitude and spotted a man below. She descended a bit more
and shouted, "Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet
him an hour ago but I don't know where I am."
The man below replied, "You're in a hot air balloon hovering approximately
30 feet above the ground. You're between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and
between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude."
"You must be an engineer," said the balloonist.
"I am", replied the man. "How did you know?"
"Well, answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is technically
correct, but I've no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I'm still lost.
Frankly, you've not been much help at all. If anything you've delayed my trip even more."
The man below responded, "You must be in management."
"I am," replied the balloonist, "but how did you know?"
"Well," said the man, "You don't know where you are or where you're going.
You have risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise
which you've no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your
problems."
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