Touch a Truck Day

Massive understatement, over the Delaware and into a mall. The first gasp at underwater breathing. Loud bed through air – the flying question. Someone retrieve the gallop as it turns into a revolutionary song. Become some clouds over commerce. The horror of lack of commerce. Options are limited, but there’s still Eternal Truth Tax Services. Military boards first, or their yearning families, tattoos of loyalty and fear, or just perpetual boredom. A big discussion of very high ceilings. Never stop working for intrigue. It must be strange to pull all that aggravation into an aggregate. Soothing recordings of calm fear| and danger. Dulcet and numbing, all that painful closure. Knoxville is full and closed. “You’re good,” repeated, calm assurance in crowded aisles. Three flags, one lawn.

Annoyance chart

Well, how do you name a man with a title, as a Father isn’t my father, who I don’t call Father Steven but Dad – yet this guy with the collar, this guy I don’t even know, has a third-party (God?) designation? Not impressing the CFAs with my lack of authentic NS cred, but I have crud on my shoes and the car got hit by enthusiastic dive-bombing gulls, genuine skyborne Atlantic shit, so I’m good. The things I don’t know exist could fill books, and a magazine – and they do, they do – it’s a mail-order arrangement to buy eternal necessities.