Chuck standing at the entrance of the shop

 Brown wood. Black mat.

Rivers of Reverse Re verses

Hum divers are bought to be hairy gold. Evidence from sediments deposited hydrological thick ice sheet Somme seperating English channel Amazon sea levels. Wetland areas exotic rivers meltwater now submerged beneath Britain and France great periods ice south were billion years Witwatersrand the Channel River disappeared northwestern Europe all over the world flowing across South America river channels more than systems In central Asia in the Kalahari Desert Erosion, Transport, and deposition probably still 100 million years and more fluvial transport of relating to transport happening higher-quality diamonds.

Drainage density spacing of channels Numerous studies value tends dissects total area drained hence.

film screen case

life is a film

you are the screen

wordlessness is the case

the world appears in the screen

the screen does not appear inside the world

don't rush it

let this sink in

the senses need to be maple-leafed sometimes

to properly climb the stairwell of poetry

let go of all poor try

be cheery this midsommar time

like juliet of the spirits

ride little bicycles in the rain

fire the interpreters

undo rash ooh moon spell

the nipples are palpable, but what of it!

the scarecrows are a living pointy needle treetop

acorns boiling in a cauldron

black witch hat looking perfect

girlies picking pink rosies

she looks over her shoulder

don't answer the phone dearie

the call ain't coming outside the house

it could be your homie prankster

or it could be those two white horses

eager to play jumping jacks with you

but gather yourselves together

restrain those teardrops

such neuro muscular ventures

and dodecahedron earrings

detectives reading fiction with nary diction

i lichen your monocle

they are age-old wonders

lemme see her face again

all of this is such a wigwam

the bat girls are winking

no one wants to be caught off-guard

as they are draping their drapes

and mixing in the secret ingredient

unsmiling and sombre

black raven dance

morphing genetic fields

creased in and frozen

morgan free mansions twinkling

faithful wives rumbling

Atlast

The guy points to the screen and explains the situation to others around him. She seems not to be wearing gold necklace. Some texts appear which I do not pay any attention to. The two of them does not go to bed. She is drinking and someone is calling on the phone. She talks. A guy talks back. She continues talking holding the glass in her hand. The mirror keeps reflecting his face and muscular arms.

Holding a bag, the man talks back to the man wearing the cap. Is he missing? The limousine is going forward. The table lamp is alit. He is wearing a tie. That man is not bald entirely. He is standing up talking to others and his hands are placed on the wooden table. Lights behind him.

Follow the rhythm of slowness

One should follow the rhythm of slowness to the fullest extent possible in order to squeeze out the latest juice out of the lemon-ade. Therefore, one should always should along the ways where it is possible to should in a way that is compliant with the shoulds of life itself written by Roger Ebert, the greatest 5646 of Chicago Sun Times and what not. The idea is to see the light that is sparkling itself before itself unknowing itself before itself with lots of cows mooing for attention. The grass has been eated by the cows and the sheeps are busy eating some forbs.

Prodesse Quam Conspici - "To accomplish without being conspicuous"

I really don't know what to say

And I don't exactly know what I did not mean by making everything seem so wrong, in some skewed perspective where noone understands the language of meaning we were so used to communicate in simplicity before, but now everything is so complicated and desirous of odes and furlongs full of nothingness bleating like sheeps and duckling ducks propping up like beggars on streets asking your honey bunny funny nun scary elevation and transportation food machine yelp lance dance's last dance ever known in the history of the world.

Train-ride to bangity bangity bang

 Trains always love Georgia ride because they have lots of stations to station donut. Doo youuu nuts? Of course knot tiffany twisted breakfast blade ransom will do whatever it takes to undo the unfurling before everything is seen by everybody until no body is left in this nothingness and everythingness that is before and after all the penultimate understanding which no barber can ever be so barbarous to grok. 

The ambient barber strikes again, with lacunae and lots of shaggy barbarism hidden in plain verse and the most important thing in this universe is to do it lovingly and lovingly is the nature of the freeverse rollcage unreal tournament that is always already unfolding without and user, controller and auditor flagon wagon. This crew is quick to the boot and finishes like a perfume. Be careful, as the outlandishness of alpha grain tire melt shuffle bishop is too marshy and loud. This unfolding is not to be expected.

Not to be expected is already expected in the unexpected visitor called slash and burn agriculture loud crying tree plantations. The estates are full of ghouls and gremlins and they come out at night playing spooky chicanery. And Kane does no know the bleating of bush. The trees align itself together with the trigonometrical geometry of existence itself. The bawling never stops just like that. If you will, this can go on and on forever like eternity and eternal sunshine of the spotless mindlessness. Jim John and completely jarringly opposite and deity Ayyappa is too candour and diplomacy is too timid and formidable in the case of rennaisance leaders one has to by heart in front of the balcony doorway. And it is always too much antsy loud tire gherao medical colleges and wheelchair squeaks going on in monkey land and this is getting too loud and maulin to boot and shoot and rooting tooting band whaler sort is coming at you like bullet shot by Quentin Tarantino in Bullets from the the broadway from wood louse woody allen and allen ginsberg and nothing else other than nothing else is the loudest message of this juniper berry jupiter curry. Therefore never underestimate the estimation of Russia's president Vladimir Putins attempt to kerplunk the plank length of loony toony runes and dunes. Then and then again and then and then again and then and then again, the again continues to again and agarn is agarn and garn is garn and garment is game ment and mentor and Tai Lopez and Youtube and Mark Zuckerberg and mother and loudest sister in law and brother in law and in laws full of lotus flower potus and bill maher is too proud to boot and begin with.

Do you understand this roller coastering loudest sonny dearest and very very peculiar and unfolding unfoldment and not at all no hidden folder and everything is being lost into some hyperdrive of insomnia and loudest tire melt screech scream painting in artwork and mr beans holiday and witchers mother is too batsy and comedy Silence Silencio and Inland Empire and Lynch's Kummatti and Vastuhara and Adoor Gopalakrishnan's beautiful film called Nothing is in the shape of grade one runners blade running and gun runners hitman and contracts and sun drive lukewarm cinema car drive in theatre and the hairy and harry potter is potting too much and way too much to begin and never again and again and agarn and agarn atoto atoto to umami is not at all a tastebud to taste. Can the tougue lick the ears of the drums and too much guitar and loud loud loud loud loud bangity bangity bang.

Hoped

Actually there is no such thing as a moonie hyoscine in any kind of race horse, that is happening. It is always happening. This happening is always on the verge and emergence of convergence, and however it likes to liken itself without lichens whatsoever in any kindred of schematism. Do you understand who these toucans are? They are full of skepticism vibes. These jibes do not proceed too long until they fall hither and tither into smithereened lollipops. Pops buying pops and sickles to measle out some easels full of davincis. Lord it over like a daisy dune metaphor and you will runnel it through and through. Never ever lark it or fruity loops itsy bitsy and nonsensically sense making apparatus still working asparagus brain mush eat well and digest with cognition and full will to boot. You all can do tritium but never ever do honorarium unless you can also do some work at sea feather colonies like a perennial herb. Go day lily compulsively too, with boot load full of dingle marsh harrier car blackie doggie moaning. Have a cup of dyspepsia in the stranded mooring and then you will know what it takes to revegetate a spoon full of vermillion schizanthus liquid.

Doomed

 We are all doomed. Some of us may be less doomed. But maybe that statement is incorrect. What is correct or incorrect... the lines get blurry.. as the mind reels under the bomb blasts which is ripping the earth apart.. and the quakes are gulping people.. and the land slides are burying people alive... and the tsunamis are drowing people in shitty water... and the corruption is cancerous... and the viruses are taking their toll... and the murderous murderers are murdering away... and the everything is oozing into chaos... 

In the darkness, the vast cosmic baggage

 But more, these columns did not see each other. It supported the colloseum or parthenon or nothing owns like staring elks. There were ruins and company. Lots of edge and rolling fog and darkness. Is there anything out there? And would it be hoody? Lots of good trains rustling pass each other like clattering rain smattering in some anyone nothing either eating stuff uncrated sure feet starting eating really hungry and juniper berries.

Think and focus to articulate well

In Aberdeen, there was a vast extraction. If you come along with me, you can visit a new place called San Francisco. Don't rest your elbow on the saddlehorn while you think you are not doing much. Because unawares, the Default Mode Network was very active and exploding lava lamps. One is always hungry for bread sandwiches with cheese and muttering peanut butters. All the pheasant farmers switched off the rocket motors. During the steady cruise home, the clock of the comproller and auditor general were ticking so slowly. I have already told you that I have fainted and took so many internal bench presses that my muscles popped out of being and everyone desired me more as I transcended all desire into the meaningful desirelessness of sacrificing everything to the Lord God. Upon the battlement and on the hills of either side, the twitching of Mordor never ever stooped or stopped. The sherriff thought I was totally crazy. But I was cleaning everything that I can clean and I was paying through the nose kind of cleaning.

He came from East and there is no shortage of genuinely good people from the North either, and there is no wisper of cynicism. Guarded by adoptionists of better corn and husk, all these strawberry jam and cheese festival is nothing short of a baby goose chase. No amount of money I have not earned has been expended by my step-father and my brother John. There were lots of people who I do not know and did not know and I do know right now and I did know whom I did not particularly wanted to come to know in hindsight. Life makes much more sense when Anna came back with the little brown spaniel. Poor Anna wore a raincoat and non-tinted glassy glasses. She always sympathized with me and it was not getting on my nerves. It was the opposite feeling of lagging behind. This was an experience of overclocking. The clock was yearning for the future and this inner realization still continues to catalyze many empirical facts. All unilateral declarations of exploitation were fraught with many generalizations.

Try getting a degree and carrying that degree in a sleeve. Maybe you won't mind the soap plant benefiting from the perception of Truth. The disturbing distribution of meaningless pointlessness were too close to aid us in any successful way, as the skies kept thundering, way after the lightning has struck. The greek manuscript scribes were all interested in the concept of pleuroma. As well as in a number of texts discovered in Nak Hammadi, the theological pleading of the politicians were not simply interested in the great communal scream. Good evening, it was a legal formility which was totally a one-way news bulletin and total and utter insignificance which is inescapable, ripping beliefs of entitlement. Under duress a man at gun point might get involved in prostitution due to the pestering sociological liminal limitations of the English grammar school. The thickest thickets of desolate solicitude and solicitude is like a shooting without a hello. The issuance of the irresistable maker of lots of mistakes uttered "Death to the tyrants!". They lay with their breifcases on top of each other, and this is impossible to belong in any unhill battle. Water and electricity is a couple which was fighting like a countess from an excellent stroking of lust. He insisted that he had no luck and removed all the hostages who were suffering from estranged estrangements.

Truly unrandomizer

If you help me out of it, everything will approve along with me. I climbed out of the pelican's beak. There must be a reason for creating a triangle. Rules became laws. It is unlawful to eat good rich food when you are hungry and lots of ostracisms. Resolutions of several inner conflicts where at non-physical levels. And how can I explain this transformation? This is more than a secret not. Suddenly he edged closer to me and saw peasants who have new lives for themselves, beaming with gratitude and win-win resolutions. The belief that it is impossible soon came flocking into the chair and told that he is going to be humane and funnt at the same time, augmenting civilization. The most talented race pointed that he is not going to take up much time. Swining out the cylinder, the fire smolded in the hill beneath. The cry of trumpets imposed itself on the ears of others without maintaining the indigenous customs or rules. This is has been a dreadful summer and I was engaging in a wild goose chase. My clothes are no big deal anyway. The people needed to be safe and the government should respect the elders. The folly of men were not completely resolved as it was on fire and lots of miles away, pestering us day and night. Rather than being caught helping us, the master refused to be caught being too soft hearted. But the wooden crocodile was a reel one and Jill ran around the roundabout, whilst the pelican and the monkey dreamt about walnuts which are fresh from the tree. This made everybody wobbly as the trashing of ones' attention span using social media wrought so much internal wrath emanating in wraithlike rapidity. A living human brain is designed to be stern sometimes. But daydreaming was disapproved as it was not part of the cold turkey detox plan and all of this was too edgy. We are stood inside a semi-circle of water, aided by lots of freetime and autonomy. If you help me out of it, everything including your damnable monster of a bird will peck them all. And they always come this way making a fine mess out of the whole casket.

Meat that is taken from an animal is basically filled with lots of cells. Seeing is understanding and understanding is wisdom, which has nothing to do with thought or folly. The salt furnace belongs to a Yankee who was very strict and ominous. Eagle-eyed, yet restful, on an October afternoon seen through a French window. Her husband defiled the land and wolves did not swing it. He swung them into a blurry circle round and round. There must be a more difficult and secret, less regal, dullsome way. Let's go and find that gate which leads to that chancery. He can go on telling me, but surely my fair hair is not going to stir. Some other time, Turkish and German colonies were more centralizing as far as the workers are concerned. The delicate shaping of hands drifted through the skin of his nose. The upper part of face was bony. He paused waiting for fertile soil and approved injunctions which are purer or adulterated, according to the understandings of the roosters. Two demonstrators burst into songs inside the caravan near the circus. He swung down and shut himself on the shoulder with a nice kiwi bird.

There it goes again

throught windless meadows full of wanderers and nomads. there he rose up into a sky lantern lit with morning glory seeds. the seedlings sprouted into everglades and gliders. real light penetrates through endless enlistments. The yard is full of pard. The pard is full of pell mell hell mell and jell mell rell mell dell mell rell mell hell mell. the wanderer is free to love around and move around and be about and not cease to exist to be around in this finite holes of existence receiving itself to itself through sky repeated fencing matches lighter and seed oils rumbling around and around the world. as long as i live.

interpreting infinity

infinity directing itself. writer app. thoughting words.

cosmic speck-tacularity polarity dance.

There is nothing to do.

There is nothing that needs to be done.

But, there is also nothing wrong with doing something.

And somethings can be done, even though nothing needs to be done.

So there is no need go try to do nothing.

There is simply no pressure to do anything when such doings does not naturally arise of its own accord.

There is simply no pressure to refrain from doing anything.

There is no pressure to do something in a particular way and to not do certain things in a particular way.

The whole idea is to relax into it.

When you relax into your being, that beingness can operate through your system and do and write and ideate and create and verbiage and dance around with lovely lollipops full of dancing spanking lovely meme sperms working tirelessly throughout the night on a gerbil cat urine meat tyre smoke stack lolly popsicle sickle meat light might right night light jaded nigh and linked in right might reams full of dancing begonias and paisley underwear tee shirt yoruba night time light time right time might reams of dancing werewolves with light clime link tree dancing monkey pod tree night time light clime right way mill in the root canal light pain jute ambulance leg work and foot work and food ball rice crow basking in the sunlight soap meadows of reality and tyre smoke stack light chain pull trigger gun honey suckle suckled suckling dancing bemoaning.

There is no need to bemoan my friend. There is no need to unlove yourself or anyone my friend. There is no need to worry about anything my friend. Worry is simply a mirror trick appearing real due to past identifications which has disidentified from the illusionary play of intentional collapse wave functions in a set of parameters running about in fencing matches full of right winged team headers and footers.

Ownership deserves significant attention in this longer perspective

 In some ways, this was an economic effort to produce cheap yoruba. The peripheral sound bytes were nearly short-sighted to chart through these significant changes. The issue of slavering relationships which continues to domineer the causation of inevitable workings of the whole stretch. It spread through all the predictability of messy historicity of global abolition. The beginnings of brand new argumentation began to take shape through blue whale from Scandanavia. Two sources were mavericks and Quakers, who used usury to enslave the impropriety of combinations. The enlightenment thinking tended to stress the targeting of utilitarianism for labour and productivity. Agitation is a contstant force with huge petitions filed away under duress. These commandments were factory-made pamphlets and there were so many boycotts identified as an alternative campaign which had added fuel to the fire. The revolutionary people also tiraded over from colonies of various institutions.

I have to do what I think I have to do, although there is no I to actually do what I think I have to do, as the whole shebang is simply an epiphenomenon of thinking, which is out of the I's control as all the I's are a result of the process of thinking.

Some boxes are full of AMOS

Some of the ravines in the vales of everywhere and no where is nothing but a triangulation of ideas and concepts which naturally emerges out of nowhere significant and insignificant otherwise incomplete and revolutionary democratic party in the times of linen clubs and pink dressers full of buckling duckling and gerbils walking in the ghost town owl night of omen nothing to do but keep the paradiddle on with brass briscket cases full of non-issues and larvae.

Then the bile keeps returning to the bile land of vomitorium, wading deep, lurking in the deep and learning many behaviours, eyeing from the void.

I really need to sort myself out like a garden manicure, pruning prunes from prune land. Knuckleheads always do dumb things. Crop failure does not produce predictable children. Inarticulate temperance.

Simply incarnating here, choosing to be here, is an act of service. The qualitativeness of this qualitativeness is indeed filled with all sorts of qualitative and quantitative qualia. Like VB, it doesn't matter from Central Asia and elaborate negotiations. Toward production for what world markets called consumer dependence and post classical societies.

Please feed the DEAF DUCKS aplenty of non-stop gerbillation AB

LetThe Hand-ear gerbillate listen to and make sense of the non stop streaming of words 

From the audiobook. Let the hand ear..

Grady. not the ear. but cellular non-listening... deaf ear of the hands..

DEAR DEAF CELLS.
FOOD FOR THE DEAF DUCKS!

Just make sure that the DEAD DEAF DUCKS are happy.

***

SOLO SOUNDING UNTIL END OF CLIP ABSOLUTION TABLET ALONE EVEN

ONLY SOUND-ING

sicosi - silence COMPACT singularity

Sounds from the DEAF DEAD DUCKS of Singularity

Above the skies where overcast moving swelling and opaquely gray, winking starts, disappearing, and the breathing deeply of the cold damp air, and a nice nightly walk.

***

playing for itself, sounding for itself, no one to hear the sound of the tree that is falling in the forest without anyone there to hear its sounding.

if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, did it make any sound?

Suddenly Dave Mirra BMX Game appeared out of everywhere

Kenshin home Dave Mirra Home GB Terrace Urine Bathroom Verne Toshiba Caffeine-less Questionmark Leaning mouth open wind blowing her braids up with a feeling of mixed annoyance and curiosity, when Hamas and Israel bomb devastation kidnapping waterless surgical strike X Xed. The red camp came here today looking for you insisting on your apartment curiosity. I have never seen this girl. Who is this girl? The name of the girl was unlocked in the purse happening lost in Padmanabha premises? Drunk as an owl no more with no mole in the gloomy darkness. The company was deserted and sand dunes where DOLO 650s walk 5 kilometers perhaps from Bakery to East Fort and then, Poojappura Jail incident woman autorickshaw driver, in a slender strip in the exapnse of non-DOLO and nice eating experimentation with no coffee or chocolate tofee or tea, no more, with a caffeine lock hoping to enter some carefree mode in some few light bulbs, along the gloomy door, staying in a pitted board, alone and courage the cowardly cowboy bebob totem mode with marion cottilard and tilda swindon in the mood for love and the unmistakable stink of bed strings leaning and cracking, in a crackling Buddha by Ozamu Tezuka.

Green light listening. No need to understand or figure out the meaningless meaning of unmeaning stories. All stories are inherently non-meaningful, even meaningful Harry Potter is meaninglessly floating in the only-wordy clouds of orb.

Concerned about Danny

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy indeed. Whatever you say to me, it just fizzles like an ice-cold Pepsi fizzle bubble shooting up in a carbonated frenzy match, with no flamethrowers, and no red iron curtains to walk around with. This burgundy cottage full of alabaster condensation won't budge nearly as it would, in real life. The ecstacies of yerba mansa must have thought it was being granted a relaunch. But that thought and false trial and error at ignition just vanished within no time, and as soon as time flew out of the Windsor Castle into the wiper blades of the rainy day wind screen on a red Ford Mustang.

Of course, I do not want any credit for this tyrosinemia. As much as possible, I have been asocial with coney rabbits hopping about in the roof terrace. There are Byzantine rehoboam tyre screeches melting like lava lamp roast. Kindle some water bubbles from the anachronistic abrasiveness.

A natural fizzling out

 I think it is important to type down the various nuances of the field of entro metriological teleology. There is and are and is and are lots of frustrated frustrations walking around in the stadium right now, hither and tither, whereever and elsewhere, in no unbound tyrone bound paperbound tree sap gherao. 

Waiting for the right sentence; what it consists of. Nothing doing anything else that should not be done and then waiting for the right sentence to type itself to get thought itself without your thinking it. Just letting that window opened and waiting for that bird to come in and eat that grain that you have put in the bowl and you should make sure that you are not staying not near that bowl and not moving your body or making noise. Hiding in fact.

Jaunty, intimate and faintly satanic

The first ever encounter gave intimate, jaunty and faintly satanic vibrations with high-pitched girlish voices coming down from the hawkish buzz. Blue eyes giving that wink, whistling through Deedle deedle deedle, like a dentist's drill. A whistle like that turned the room across the corridor like some perennial irritants. The wireless played on irately, complaining about the villainous price of drinks and abashment. A company picture hangs protuberantly with parboiled lies, avoiding the skirting of the skriting of truth. Flames burst forth with clasped hands and stringy neck soles which are much-mended for its glossy brown brogues to the tip of the conical skull. The long-lobed leathery ears stick out with dried and smoked smoky yellow tinge. The buzz of voices can be heard on the wireless virulence of recognized boundary lines.

Later that day, the black car came, or the following one, or the one following that, glossy saw the black cat again, recognised it at once as it went bounding over the little humpbacked bridge that spanned the railway line. It is still there, that bridge, just beyond the station. Yes, things endure, while the living lapse. The car was heading out of the village in the direction of the town, shall call it Ballymore, a dozen miles away. The town is Ballymore, this village in Ballyless, ridiculously, perhaps, but do not care.

Departing strange tide

on the day of the strange tide... all morning under a milky sky the waters in the bay had swelled and swelled... rising to unheard of heights... the small waves creeping over parched sand that for years had known no wetting save for rain and lapping the very bases of the dunes... the rusted hulk of the freighter that had run aground at the far end of the bay longer ago than could be remembered must have thought it was being granted a relaunch... no swimming after that day... seabirds mewled and swooped unnerved... it seemed... by the spectacle of that vast bowl of water bulging like a blister... lead-blue and malignantly agleam... they looked unnaturally white... that day... those birds... the waves were depositing a fringe of soiled yellow foam along the waterline... no sail marred the high horizon... would not swim... no... not ever again...

just walked over a grave...

the name of the house is cedars... as of old... a bristling clump of those trees... monkey-brown with a tarry reek... their trunks nightmarishly tangled... still grows at the left side... facing across an untidy lawn to the big curved window of what used to be the living room... prefers to be called in landladyese... the lounge... the front door is at the opposite side... opening on to a square of oil-stained gravel behind the iron gate that is still painted green... though rust has reduced its struts to a tremulous filigree... amazed at how little has changed in the more than fifty years that have gone by since... amazed and disappointed... going so far as to say appalled... for reasons that are obscure... since who desired change... coming back to live amongst the rubble of the past... wondering how the house was built like that... sideways-on... turning a pebble-dashed windowless white end-wall to the road... perhaps in former times... before the railway... the road ran in a different orientation altogether... passing directly in front of the front door... anything is possible... although vague on dates... thinking a cottage was first put up here early in the last century... the century before last... losing track of the millenia... and then was added on to haphazardly over the years... that would account for the jumbled look of the place... with small rooms giving on to bigger ones... and windows facing blank walls and low ceilings throughout... the pitchpine floors sound a nautical note... as does the swindle-backed swivel chair... imagining an old swivel-backed chair... imagining dozing old by the fire... landlubbered at last... and the winter gale rattling the window frames...

all those years ago... the cedars was a summer house... for rent by the fortnight or the month... during all of june each year a rich raucous infestation happened... loud-voiced laughter and throwing stones from behind the unbreachable barrier of the gate... and a mysterious non-speaking grimly silent walk every morning down station road to the strand... august was the most interesting month at the cedars... an afternoon theatre show in the village's galvanised-tin cinema... then... that year...

motor car... parked on the gravel inside the gate... it was a low-slung... scarred and battered black model with beige leather seats and a big spoked polished wood steering wheel... books with bleached and dog-eared covers were thrown carelessly on the shelf under the sportily raked back window... and there was a touring map of france... much used... the front door of the house stood wide open... voices can be heard inside... downstairs... and from upstairs the sound of running on floorboards and laughter... pausing by the gate... frankly eavesdropping... and now suddenly liquid came out of the house... close-cut... crinkled... glittering-black flecks of pointed blackish premature grey... loose green and khaki... so deeply tanned by the sun having a purplish sheen... brown and fish-belly white below...  the tumbler contained ice-blue gin and ice cubes and a lemon slice... at a perilous angle on the roof of the car and opened the door and leaned inside to rummage for something under the dashboard... in the unseen upstairs of the house... wild laughter and warbling cry of mock-panic... and again there was the sound of scampering... playing chase voicelessly... straightened the glass of gin from the roof and slammed the car door... whatever has been searched for has not been found... winking after turning back... at once arch and ingratiating... a conspiratorial... masonic wink... almost... as if this moment... shared... outwardly without significance... without content... even... nonetheless had meaning... extraordinary pale transparent shade of blue... went back inside then... already talking through the door... damned thing... seems to be... and was gone... lingered a moment... scanning the upstairs windows... no appearance...