Moo

Greetings from upriver. 

This is not a story. These are two minutes of my life, maybe 5 moments give or take, that I thought I'd share in the following daisy-chain of 102 words. Feel free to enjoy. And for those with similar minutes, feel free to print it out and sign your name to it.  

Putting on the suit was humiliating. My enormous, pit-stained manager waddles over with the 60-inch spotted pants. “Hold this sign too,” chimes Brian, smiling like a light bulb, teeth full of gaps. He puts Maggie’s head on me—an initiative rite to commence my journey.

“Maggie is now joining our souls, Brian. It’s a miracle. I’m without sense of being or self-individualization—a living corporate logo; a new age pusher; economic savior. Can you feel it?”

“Yes.”  He’s not kidding.

Walking out into the machine gun sun on Olive, I reach my hoof skyward, flipping off Brian beneath my fuzzy cow mitten.

What lies in our near future?

An older gentleman researches what all the hubbub is about with the rising trend of these so-called 'facials' in pornography. The eternal questions of where we came from and what is our purpose here is finally answered. Hint: Two alligators who go by Bud and Margie. A Chicago homeless man in need of a throat specialist explains (briefly) the plight of knowing Greek mobsters. And finally, a sonnet gets mean.

With love for the written word, cities on the river, and most people.