From the Clutter Of a Disheveled Mind

I missed the era when euphemisms, metaphors, and, even, mixed metaphors proliferated.  It took creativity to come up with some of them–blind hogs, acorns; horses led to water; the art of catching flies with honey, instead of vinegar.  People talked around things instead of going straight for the jugular.

It was a dreamlike state–watching silent movies with captions.  For some odd reason–I knew when it would rain.  What to do when people ran out of crutches to lean on?  What would bowling on the moon be like?

You would be surprised to learn–as I was.  Prognosis, everyone was waiting for payday–it was only Wednesday.  The diagnosis was hypnosis.  What was that out the window?  It was a fog bow.  And, you didn’t know?  Open another box of “try not to act surprised.”

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Author: warturoadam77p

65 year old married retired communications worker with three grown children, transplanted from the Midwest to the sunny Gulf Coast.

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