Saturday Afternoon The Day The World Was Suppose To End

I watch the dog seriously
trying to play catch
with the cat, nudging a tennis
ball at him with her nose. The cat
hits it with his paw the
opposite direction and
runs after it.

Laughing, I take a sip from
my icy cold beer, and fire up some
blueberry yum-yum..


Springteen’s “Born To Run” is
playing on my ancient boom box,
as I take my first hit. I yawn (no dis-
respect to Bruce) and seriously
think about taking a nap