"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves." Ludwig Wittgenstein

Monday, November 23, 2009

Might As Well Face It

Richard wandered aimlessly around the Walgreen’s drug store. Each aisle was filled with potions, salves, lotions, tablets, pills, ointments, scents and colognes. Why had he come in here, anyway--- what was it he was looking for?

As he walked around, seemingly in a stupefied daze, he found himself humming a tune. The chorus looped through his mind like an aural mobius strip, “Might as well face it, your addicted to love.”

At the checkout counter, he found himself wondering if Lola would still be in the car when he returned, or if she would have run off with the money and left him standing in the parking lot humming a song by a dead rock and roll star who had perennially dressed in a tailored suit and neat neck tie.

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