Permanent Leftovers

Monday, 26 August 2002

as the klax­on did its thing, the bed erupt­ed in­to a flur­ry of fur and feath­ers. i emerged in­to the blar­ing half morn­ing from the con­fused ball and stum­bled over to the off switch. in the fol­low­ing si­lence i ex­am­ined my­self to en­sure that all my parts were in­tact and that my head was screwed on cor­rect­ly. a feath­er float­ed oh so qui­et­ly to the floor. lat­er, i had an ounce or so of met­al re­moved from my head and then trad­ed pieces of pa­per with num­bers on them for oth­er pieces of pa­per with dif­fer­ent num­bers on them. life was good un­til i hit the din­ing hall. per­ma­nent left­overs.