Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Greatest Show On Earth

jerry red plaid 80s sad

The circus had been there last week; the place still smelled like exotic shit. Lion and elephant shit smells different from horse shit. Not that he could tell: thirty years of unfiltered Camels will do that to a sense of smell. Parish told him so and he believed it.

Was he going to one of the small, darkened rooms he preferred? Or the stage that paid for the rooms? For what went on in there. To or from, don’t matter: he would end up where he wanted to be. No one could ever argue with him, everyone dutifully chorussed after it was over.

3 Comments

  1. “Greatness” (Grate-ness?), a lonely path.

  2. picture x prose occasionally results in a product larger than what the integers would normally provide

    This is one of those times
    Fistbump

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