The giant size soda tumbled from the top of the shelf. This time it was empty. The commemorative cup was teetering on the edge of the top shelf. Silly me, I shook the shelving and the damn thing fell off. I don’t know how to get it back up there… I just to short.
The giant steps, earth shutters, a pond gathers in every step, flattening forests like grass and never finding a place to rest, always having to watch, to tip-toe in a world too small for him, alone with a blue ox or tucked up high in the clouds until pickpockets come on beanstalks to find you, no place in the world where you will fit.
There was something in the hills beyond the village, where the mist and the horizon merge into a wispy greyness of layered scales, where you had to squint to make the silhouette out of anything–anything at all–and in the silence, your mind imagined massive, looming possibilities, bones the size of skyscrapers, arms thicker than thirty men–things too terrible and awesome to confront directly.
You see, life presents you with many blessings. Mine was the giant I had for a sister. Her arms are my shield in the battle of life or umbrella to the rains I face daily.
The cat looked up at her human then ran away as the giant bent over. I had to laugh, it was as if a ten story building had bent over. The cat ran away.
The giant size soda tumbled from the top of the shelf. This time it was empty. The commemorative cup was teetering on the edge of the top shelf. Silly me, I shook the shelving and the damn thing fell off. I don’t know how to get it back up there… I just to short.
The giant steps, earth shutters, a pond gathers in every step, flattening forests like grass and never finding a place to rest, always having to watch, to tip-toe in a world too small for him, alone with a blue ox or tucked up high in the clouds until pickpockets come on beanstalks to find you, no place in the world where you will fit.
There was something in the hills beyond the village, where the mist and the horizon merge into a wispy greyness of layered scales, where you had to squint to make the silhouette out of anything–anything at all–and in the silence, your mind imagined massive, looming possibilities, bones the size of skyscrapers, arms thicker than thirty men–things too terrible and awesome to confront directly.
You see, life presents you with many blessings. Mine was the giant I had for a sister. Her arms are my shield in the battle of life or umbrella to the rains I face daily.
The cat looked up at her human then ran away as the giant bent over. I had to laugh, it was as if a ten story building had bent over. The cat ran away.