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October 26, 2002 greenery Faithful readers recall it was thirteen months ago when I was cordially invited to refrain from being married.  I moved into the Alhambra in the driving rain that preceded the September 11th attacks.  I remember little about those weeks from September through the end of the year.  Shock has a way of protecting you.  Still, there are things about last fall and winter I do remember. *...............................*..............................* I carved a pumpkin by myself, the first time I carved one without my children.  I also remember a little girl selling Christmas greenery as a school fund-raiser. "Sir, would you like to buy some Christmas greenery?" I bought out her remaining supply. "Wow!  Johnny was right.  You are an easy mark... I mean... You are a nice man." I looked down at her and inquired, "Is Johnny the red-headed fellow who sold me the bucket of human feces last week?" The little girl returned last night and took my order for greenery this Christmas.  She's now my height.  I looked directly into her emerald eyes and asked, "Are you the little girl who sold me greenery last year?" "Yeah, what of it?"  She exhaled the question with her cigarette smoke.  I watched the blue smoke curl and disappear into the fake cobwebs hanging from my porch. "Just wondering.  Did you have those tits last year?" *...............................*..............................* I wouldn't remember Thanksgiving if I hadn't been in shock.  Thanksgiving doesn't "turn me on," as the kids say.  Actually, that's what the kids used to say.  Let's just say Thanksgiving doesn't "make me want to get fucked up on crank and spray the 'hood with my Glock."  But whether I like it or not, Thanksgiving is right around the corner.  It's around the same corner where Heartache, Disease, and Despair hang out, all of them pitching pennies and waiting. *...............................*..............................* Then there was Christmas.  I remember the greenery.  Lots and lots of greenery.

©  2002 by the beastmaster