Furgus went to Walmart looking for a snow shovel.
In Minnesota this shouldn’t be a problem,
but it was August and they had spades and rakes,
but not one snow shovel. Furgus couldn’t ask
for one either, they might ask questions.
He couldn’t admit his old one is deep in a well
with his ex-wife.
- Susan L
- Portland, Oregon
- It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop. ~Vita Sackville-West