The Human Realization

Time is a teeming river of mud and we fish in it while trying to breathe in a flavor of soil.

The human realization is that the prey we seek in the water is really all we have evewr been, we may someday realize we all have fins and gasp for oxygen, we are so far just the best swimmers, that can digest all our relative enemies.

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For Grampa, for Bubbles

“Sweetie, what on EARTH are you doing?” Claire asked, beyond surprised to see Chelsea, her pig-tailed, freckle-cheeked, pink-shorts-wearing four year-old daughter, hopping repeatedly on one foot for balance while jamming the other down the toilet, two dandelions grasped in one hand while the other worked the flushing lever.
“Well we bringed flowers to Grampa in the hospital yesterday, so now I’m gonna bring flowers to Bubbles,” Chelsea answered matter-of-factly, of course referring to her comrade who had, several weeks ago after a violent incident involving one of his (larger and more aggressive) bowl-mates, been sent via toilet flush to the fishy hospital.

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