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Stockton Metropolitan Airport While returning from getting a sandwich at the airport's Subway I encountered this gentleman who seemed in despair and asked him if anything was wrong. "Everything," he said, "and it can never be made right again." In his pale gaze, dulled by loss, I saw a sorrow which transcended the mere individual to speak for all humanity, a plaintive cry against the cruelty of the vast black cosmos. His profound grief, both noble and pathetic, expressed a howl from the deeps of time, like a chained beast which knows only pain. My spirit was captured in that eye, as the murderer's grim visage is imprinted in his victim's eye. I fell into the seat beside him; I wept quietly, grieving for the doom that comes to all that breathes, and the ultimate failure of all who strive. Also, I ordered a "Spicy Italian" and received an "Italian B.M.T.," so I have to subtract a star for the oversight. Score: 
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Jun 1, 2016 03:59
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| # ¿ May 21, 2024 02:52 |
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sorry about doxing you
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Jun 1, 2016 16:43
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