Friday, March 1, 2013


Seen on the Purple Line to Lindenth at about 8:30 a.m., February 26th, 2013

It's days like these, when the cold goes bone deep, that I need the fur. Not real fur, obviously. Nobody's going to let you kill a cheetah for a coat. But I wish they would. Real fur from a real animal whose breath was real hot. That'd be better.

I've always wondered why it's considered acceptable to wear some furs instead of others. Rabbit? Ok. Fox? Ok. Mink? Ok. Cheetah? Hell no. Maybe they just can't catch the cheetahs because they're too fast. That'd be another good reason for cheetah fur--moving fast. I could run right out of this city before anyone noticed. Not that many people would. I could run right out of my tiny apartment and my cubicle job, run somewhere with lots of space and easy prey. 

I'm tired of being the prey, being chased and caught and trapped into one lousy situation after another. I want to be fierce and strong, I want to make the decisions, I want to own them, and most of all, I want to stay warm.

Hm. I don't really like this story, to be quite honest. That's why I skipped it when I wrote it. But I'm working from home today, so... it'll have to do. Happy weekend, everyone! 

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