Spitball Army

He carts a framed door to the hardware store returns desk. Wrong size? No. “It doesn’t fit the hole my wife measured,” he says.

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Card is titled: “A Sausage Tree in Florida.”

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Approximate playing time: 79 minutes.

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Yesterday was our day of liberty, when we woke up it was very cold and raining to beat the band – our day off. There was nothing to do but lay around.

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The tornado drops bits of Tuscaloosa in Birmingham yards: shingles, chunks of insulation, a bank deposit slip, a woman’s swimsuit.

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“I love you. Ever since that first day at the convent, when I saw you playing volleyball with the nuns, I couldn’t help myself.” – Spoken dialogue in Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets.

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So the next time I see my Honey-Bunches, there will be some part of her missing – doggone – I didn’t know that your tonsils were bothering you.

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Electricity courses into the house, waking after a four day nap: the AC vent yawns, ceiling fans stretch, the refrigerator groans.

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Card is titled: “SYLACAUGA MOTEL, Sylacauga, Alabama.”

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Approximate playing time: 77 minutes.

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