Without tenses
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Norway
February 20, 2013
THE WORD
Looking out from my grand and lofty window - looking out and over a beautiful city, I saw far below me a man - a beggar-man – a man whose fingers and limbs were all twisted and bent. A man whom through his eyes could be seen many years had spent. I wondered a moment what evilness could have upon this soul misfortune sent. Tempted a time to simply ignore the man, I soon, to him, I went. I saw his clothes of rags all soiled and rent; his face drawn cold and of joy... absent. His body seemed stiff and dead of life contempt. I said to him, "Sir, if you want, I will of food to you have sent - thinking first, of course, of a Godly convent. But from this man nothing was meant - I mean to say he only seemed to mumble a sound that had no content. Again, I asked, "Dear sir, what can I do for your predicament?" Again, nothing - zip - only a breathing of ill scent. Gagging of disgust and possibly now, ill-temperament, I began to leave when from him a WORD was sent - The WORD at first seemed irrelevant. Again, I turned to of more of this prevent - when again the WORD the man he lent. “What say you?” My annoyance pent. But again, nothing was to be blent – no harmonious effect was to ascent. Now with much self-argument, I turned to escape this silly content when now the WORD of mind it did foment.
More entries: Half-Wit (3), Come Home Son, Life Is A Risk, Words Are Not Action, JOY, Here's a shot of me doing my one--and only one--yearly exercise (1), Indeed A Higher Law of Justice, Gotcha! (1), A Belated "I'm Sorry", The Fruits of Our Labor?