August 5, 2013

  •      Chris's team had the ball. It's passed to another team member. He dribbled it up the field a little bit. He looked tired. The game had been going on for a while now. And the ball had been stolen. They're nimbus clouds. Not for long. Chris had the ball. They'd been playing all afternoon. Channel 7 had said that mine work on the moon was being shut down. And I probably shouldn't have chosen white pants for this day. Those clouds looked dark. They'd called a timeout. Something about avoiding the core collapsing. It's around about halftime that Chris offs his shirt. It's drizzling. They were attempting a new colony on Mars again. An improper attempt at a hanging can mean that you'll need to then wait a full minute and, well, I could never just master my patience to will. Shot on goal. They were playing Soccer. It's pouring now. The mugginess is gone. It's finally cool. There is barely a day where I don't have the thought "I am thinking I'll burn down the world…"