(no subject)
Stepping out of a body’s usual modus operandi is a strange, and, in many ways, unsettling proposition. Though it can often be a rewarding proposition, it leads to strange feelings in the pit of one’s stomach often accompied by the feeling that one’s gotten in way over their head.
Which is about how Miki feels, standing in line at the ticket counter at Logan International, haversack slung over her shoulder and a borrowed rolly bag at her feet. Three patrons down the line is a large sort of family, two adults and five wee ones ranging in apparent age of 2-7. The older ones have incited the younger ones into a wailing cacophony and are quickly involving other children in this line and others near-by in the chorus. The upside to this is that the noise almost drowns out the soulful strains of a muzak rendition of Bitches Ain’t Shit.
It may be noted that Miki has never experienced such a unique raping of a clarinet. Like in the case of a trainwreck, one can’t help but gawk a bit.
“This is what one of the hells is like, isn’t it?”
Which is about how Miki feels, standing in line at the ticket counter at Logan International, haversack slung over her shoulder and a borrowed rolly bag at her feet. Three patrons down the line is a large sort of family, two adults and five wee ones ranging in apparent age of 2-7. The older ones have incited the younger ones into a wailing cacophony and are quickly involving other children in this line and others near-by in the chorus. The upside to this is that the noise almost drowns out the soulful strains of a muzak rendition of Bitches Ain’t Shit.
It may be noted that Miki has never experienced such a unique raping of a clarinet. Like in the case of a trainwreck, one can’t help but gawk a bit.
“This is what one of the hells is like, isn’t it?”