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The Benevolent Roar
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The night was silent. We ambled forward together, a mobile living room, lightly populated with benevolent strangers. Nothing but the gentle hum of the bus's electric current. People sitting alone, nursing their own thoughts.
Then out of the silence, like cymbals crashing after a mellow adagio, I hear an ear-splitting stentorian roar:
[This story is now in my new book!]
Then out of the silence, like cymbals crashing after a mellow adagio, I hear an ear-splitting stentorian roar:
[This story is now in my new book!]
I am choking on my food, right now. The way you deliver humor? Damn. So good! You know how to retell the good ones. As IF I was there.
Oh god...tears.
A LITTLE DAB HERE, AND A LITTLE DAB THERE!
I need to highlight what I love:
When, out of that nice silence Mr. Weyling yells- "DRIVER, DO YOU LIKE DONALD TRUMP?"
I died.
"At this point he stood. Which made sense."
Laughed out loud.
Whoops. Roomie is sleeping!
"Utterly flummoxed---great, fulminating vision...avalanche of friendliness.."
Yum yum yum! Masterful diction and prose!
Okay. I'm stopping.
That is all.
Cheers!
Sometimes I wish I could just go to a Greek island and write out all the drafts of blog posts I have. There is such a massive backlog- easily a year's worth of stories just waiting to get out. My life has been overly busy of late, but I write one out whenever I can. There's always more in the pipeline!