Changing mind.

"The terrain looks like this:" she began. She liked to think. She liked talking and she liked her ears, they had intricacies that no one knew about but her.

Looming in the shadows she thinks she's the best. She hovers sometimes too but mostly she just thinks things like "What would I most like to have." This isn't a question to her because nothing is. June is very pretty and thinks its all about intonation. Coming out of there you can see a little smile being swallowed by all this.

"Probably tomorrow," she thinks. She says she will do the following things today. She says that none of the things in her house are hers and she promises that if anyone wanted anything which was considered to be hers she would give it to them in a second. No one ever asks her for anything but they like to see if there is anything they can do for her. She pays a lot of attention to politics. She talks armchair politics. She sits down and fingers the buttons on the bottom of the arms and says things like "Well what of industry? You think the young Chicagoan will be able to put food on my table?" "Well," she'd counter, "Well."

Continue,

Walter walks the street, stopping to look at the newspaper, and the different fonts used. He is glad there are different ways to make letters, because otherwise he would have trouble differentiating news stories from advertisements. So he's got that going for him.

Susie gets seen a lot, but Christian sees her first today, and says nothing. So she leaves really quickly. "What did she leave." You'll be thinking that for a long time.

Hearing infection (Disappointing follow-up)

Walking through aisles is one way of doing it.

"Here we are," he shot her a look. He shot her a look and she took it for just what it was. "Here we are," and there they were not!

"Hey Bill," he thought of saying. Instead he noticed his face, and then the back of his head, and then some footprints left in the sand.

Planes of thought:

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she exercised. "But this case seems like quite a lot to assign to someone with so little experience." Sal blushed. Sal assigned himself a part in the scene. "Correct me if I'm wrong in thinking," Sal announced. Salad days, come on come on.

"Is this reasonable?" Here are some famous people: Albert Schweitzer, Nate Dogg, Yasser Arafat, Henry McCarty. Which one would you take, a glass or an hour? What could you do with either?

He looked over some papers, more just at the craftsmanship of the paper themselves, the stapling, the helpful pockets on the folders in which they are found. "Good work here. Excellent paper. Excellent workmanship. I want whoever was responsible for this - all parties, from the lumberjack to the mailroom boy - promoted. Promoted, but not demoted." He took an Alka-Seltzer and fell asleep.

"I really wish. Come on just say it." She looked at him like he was just dotty. He was a lot more than that. He didn't know if he had said anything to her yet, so he continued. "I really care about you. You're ottffssentettffssenttttttttttt." Oh, baaaaaby.

Driving

beginning.

re: existence.

thank you.

(Now back to narrative).

Corruption," he thought. "Thats what this might be, this really might be corruption." He would have to send around a memo. Who was he kidding. "Who am I kidding." He was kidding no one, and fooling even less. "I am kidding no one, and fooling even less." Ah, this is no good. He thought about fucking his cleaning woman again. "Maybe I'll make a dinner reservation tonight," he thought.

much better.