at a cafe being served by
I'm at a cafe with (??) and we're being served by Sheryll. An old girlfriend, I didn't know she worked here but I'm pleasantly surprised, she's grown plumper, wearing a ridiculous white shirt with double bow ties hanging from the collar, we banter - momentarily - and then she tells me that if she'd wanted to she could have "sold out" or "sold herself" (I'm not sure which) a long time ago, then runs off to serve another table.
Now where we're sitting we can see the other waitresses, all dressed in fine lingerie, corsets and stockings, the way the restaurant is layed out they walk in circles, always away from us and so all I can see are their fine, plump asses wiggling as they walk on and around a corner...maybe this is what she means by 'sell out' - she's not wearing the uniform, I'm not sure...
This cafe, there are piles of books upon a rail just above the tables, and I can recognize many from my childhood...I read the author - Franklin W Dixon, and the titles, but the name of the series escapes me - one series by him entitled "The Good Samaritan" - that's not it, it's the Hardy brothers, or something like it - and as I look closer I can see that what I thought were the books of my childhood are simply books painted to look like the books of my childhood, although reading the titles brings back a flood of memories and I want to take some of them down and briefly relive them....
I'm making notes on this cafe, trying to describe it - "Probably targeting the Frat Boy set" I write, but everything I write comes out wrong, rude scribbles in my notebook that I can't decipher, it's as if I'm drunk and can't concentrate, focus...
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- Category: Dreams
Who woulda guessed?
No me, for sure. But sitting out late upon the patio the cat - fat, indolent cat that likes nothing better than to be rubbed and petted and snuggled, springs into action.
There's a flurry of paws and a moment later he has a mouse between his teeth. When he sets it upon the grass I see if it can be revived - the other cat brings her prey home alive (to be taken away and released by me) - this mouse isn't so lucky, he's punctured through and through and thoroughly dead - wet to the touch from the abundant cat saliva - he's not done with it yet. He flings it into the air, bats it with his paws, finds it, repeats, loses it in a plant pot, sniffs it out, flings it into the air again, bats it some more.
There's a very real danger of dead leaky mouse landing in my lap, but I have to stay and marvel at such a display of his feline prowess, and am filled with a newfound and rather grudging admiration. There was a standing joke about this cat, that if he ever caught a mouse he'd cuddle it to death, it's been now entirely disproven.
He sets it in front of the mat - the welcome home offering, then thinks better of it and picks it up to throw it into the air again....
Who woulda guessed?
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- Category: Miscellany
Art out of coffee & crumpets
More links on the diversity of art materials - Pippa Middleton out of Crumpets, Mona Lisa out of Coffee.
Previously: Toaster out of Toast, The Medium is the Message, Art Made with Spools
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- Category: Link of the day
wrapped in white linen floating in the harbour
She came in on a float plane, the plane landed safely enough but then something went wrong and she died.
I can't remember her face, or even how I knew her, only that I was honoring her last wishes when I stitched her up in white linen and floated her body in the harbour, and looking out I can see her body (seamless white linen) bobbing beside a rocky island...
Her family, they won't be happy, they had their own plans, but that was none of my business, my only concern was that I had done what she wanted....
Now it's the middle of the night and they're dropping candy firecrackers from the balcony into sugared watermelons, icing sugar confections, and the firecrackers explode and there candy fruit is reshaped into explosions and splashes. A woman somewhere is telling me that the girl I sewed up has floated down to a taxidermists, and I'm wondering if she means they will stuff her (surely they won't stuff her???)...
Behind the candy counter there are some people I used to know, work with 20 years ago, they're joking around, there's a pale flabby young guy in a pair of boxer tights and superhero cape and swimming goggles, apparently he's the next big thing in fighters, they're pushing him to the front (this candy store in the middle of nowhere, it's lit up like a stage, spotlight from an invisible above...), I'm a little skeptical of this new fighter, he doesn't look so good to me, but his companions seem sincere in their praise, I'm at the counter trying to find someone who will sell me some candy firecrackers for my daughter...
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- Category: Dreams
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