Washing hands in a crystal bowl held aloft by trembling arms, he looks through the water at the bowed head and sweating neck of the servant. Dirt clouds the view. Drying his hands he turns and says to the crowd, "What is . . .
Sunday, April 24, 2005
3:00 A.M.
So two nights running I'm sitting here staring at the screen at 3:00 A. M. No sense to be found in this. Reason, purpose, meaning. The kids have a word for it. Meh
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