Tuesday, June 03, 2008

big red dog

We cut between two buildings to get to St. Clair. There was this slightly frothy puddle in the ally.

"Careful, don't walk in that", he said, a gentlemen-like warning. "Looks like someone took a leak".

"I don't know why, but I was thinking it was a drool puddle."

He looked at me, like what?

"I know. I don't get it either. I was picturing Clifford the Big Red Dog or something." I shrugged.

He laughed like he got it. I wondered how.


Just now as I was writing, I heard this sound from somewhere down on the street. At first I thought it was a woman, or women plural, screaming. It was agony, I was sure of it. I got a glimpse of it and it was bad...until it wasn't.

In a millisecond I knew it was music blaring from a passing car. That's all. But it could have gone either way; about as likely as a big red dog drool puddle.

Nothing's impossible. We should all know that by now.

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