Monday, May 9, 2011

Stranger Than Fiction.


Dancing around the bonfire in the yard last night, with some of the people on our street, our thoughts turned to the two houses barricaded at the end of the street ... the razor wire glistening in the firelight.


" Someone asked, "what's the deal with those two?"

We could see shadows moving behind the curtains, pen in hand, poised over paper, probably writing names to provide to the police.

I shrugged.  "It's us," I admitted. "Years ago something happened - something about us breathing.   I admit we suck at games, but evidently this one has strict rules, like regardless if everyone forgets what this was even about, one must never ever ever give an inch.  We have tried to smile and talk but it is hard to do that dodging bullets. "

"What about the other family?"

"Well they inherited the hate by friendship. We don't even know them, never spoke with them, they just hate by association.  They are really good friends with the other family.  Which is probably another reason why we don't have any friends, we suck at the friendship game obviously, we refuse to surrender our intelligence to anyone."

Someone else said ...."awww give it time ....they do everything together, they live across the street from one another, they eat together, garden together, go out together, camp together, vacation together ... sooner or later they will have a falling out and then they will probably be willing to talk with the rest of us..."


"I don't know .... I am betting they can easily go another 6 years .. never underestimate the strength of the bond of hate ... it unites people in powerful ways."

Then we sipped our beer and tossed another log on, got naked and danced in the moonlight.

SKIN: Nuuna
HAIR: Boon
EYES: Fashism
LASHES: Amacci
OUTFIT: SoliDea FoliEs
SHOES: Stiletto Moody
POSES: Bent!
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