At one minute to eight


At one minute to eight I still haven't finished deconstructing Proust or solving Fermat but I suppose it doesn't matter because others have already done these things. So instead I will focus on stepping on the cement in a pattern new and unique to me, today, that the cement will feel its day has not been wasted.

Meanwhile, I will focus on not tripping or having my glasses torn off by the tree whose branches own the airspace above the sidewalk.

And we will both smile to know today is February 13th and no one is the wiser. Not penguins, not ducks, not any amusing fowl, nor, for that matter, Proust or Fermat.

Now. Where are we going?

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