ants
Two o'clock in the morning Tuesday, winds one hundred twenty miles per hour, and The Thing sits stationary. Those beneath it within its raging fury must know Time standing still in the eternity of Hell, they have skipped the cleansing eon of Purgatory (is that still part of doctrinal absurdity?) and plunged directly into Timeless Nightmare from which there is no waking.
The bright and beautiful creamy planet above us in the clear heavens last night was Saturn with its circling rings, but the Giant Red Spot on Jupiter is a centuries old cyclone said to have wind of 270 mph. Not likely in mine, but could a storm in your lifetime reach that ferocity? And sit for ages of ages?
Global warming? Hard borders against neighboring anthills? Guns unlimited against ourselves? Rights without responsibilities? Are we then the image of some mad Creator?
The bright and beautiful creamy planet above us in the clear heavens last night was Saturn with its circling rings, but the Giant Red Spot on Jupiter is a centuries old cyclone said to have wind of 270 mph. Not likely in mine, but could a storm in your lifetime reach that ferocity? And sit for ages of ages?
Global warming? Hard borders against neighboring anthills? Guns unlimited against ourselves? Rights without responsibilities? Are we then the image of some mad Creator?