Monday, October 9, 2006

can't see my tale

Nothing.

Everything.

Anything.

These three words are, in and of themselves, relatively benign. But imagine if you said them slowly and surely, one after the other with a sense of urgency in your voice and a half-eaten growl in your throat. If you almost choked back a tear on the last one. If you left a baroque pause between the first and second while you lit a cigaratte and looked angled at the floor.

France has surrendered for less.

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