Red lights stretch towards infinity before him, evil eyes winking in mirth, laughing at his futile, mortal existence. Lloyd sighs and turns his face upward. "Why God? Why?" he asks the roof of his car, tone wry and desperate in equal measure ( Read more... )

"What do you do for a living, Lloyd?"

"I see vacuums. Door to door. I sell vacuums door to door."

"You sell vacuums door to door."

"Well -- yes. There's quite a bit of money to be made in vacuums."

The pigeon tasted of shoe leather, and when it was finished, all that remained was a smattering of feathers and the poignant resound that somewhere, for someone, something had gone terrifically wrong ( Read more... )

"Why are you so moody today?"

"Because I ate a pigeon for dinner last night and I'm wearing my shoes on the wrong feet and because I am unhappy."

quisiera

how the lilacs smelled last june when you weren't here