Composite narrative by young travelers

Back from the grave little men in mache sombreros stack the garage with old rocks, real rocks, not the fake rocks that people decorate real lawns with. This is just a flash of vision. When vision shifts part-way through completing the whole the whole loses focus and scatters. The effect of partial orange fills a small tin can. Buttons are tender. Call in the drill martial. The source has been halved and harvested. The toga-ed poet keeps the city in line with his many belts, exhausting his one-word vocabulary. Concrete tangent, I can hardly keep my head from bouncing down the hospital’s front steps.

Last night I uncorked a bottle of red wine with neither explosion nor mess. I slept soundly and I’d like more. Furthermore, my mom, it turns out, also favors my favorite newsperson for same reasons. Monday told me this. Finally, the matrix of trails behind the house I live in is becoming too small for me and my bike. Just like life.

Following her success as a commercial actor and then a detective, the girl will enlist as a geologist--archaeologist?--for Hindu architects.

I can hardly keep my head from bouncing down the hospital’s front steps.