50, 60 , 70, 80 and slam into fifth gear.

50, 60 , 70, 80 and slam into fifth gear. Wind smacked him in the face, including a sea gull which bounced off his helmet. He angled higher, and then gritted his dentures. Now

the wind began swirling a cloud of Mardi Gras debris around his careening cycle. Beads and bras and bits of colorful trash thrashed his flesh and stained his helmet. Fortunately

he was sub-sober with at least three hours to go before any sensation returned above the waist. Below it, however, the new attachment to his hog kicked in and rerouted the intake

started this twitching thing a few years ago. She could swear it was noticeable by others. But time and again, she was assured that no one else could see her eyelid spasms. Still,

she wore shaded glasses when she left the house and sometimes even indoors if there were people present who she didn't know. She was just to insecure to realize that her beauty

didn't matter to people. People were to shallow to worry about her. When she realized this she

decided to take care of herself and not pay attention to the people who were

running around screaming and shouting about an apocalypse, the end of days, death and destruction. No, she calmly filled a trolley with as many quilted loo rolls and Bournvilles as

she could find. She rode off in the trolley as she watched her beloved town burn to the ground.