Amanda Widdershins pined for the farmhouse

Amanda Widdershins pined for the farmhouse where she was born and the fields where she played. Her apartment was nice by modern standards, but too flat and geometric and un
decahedral. The 11th wall was unbeknownst to her a timeportal. She left the odd wall blank out of a 6th sense. One night Amanda Widdershins sleepwalked through it to her farmhouse
back in the old country. Except this was not the Eastern Europe she'd remembered from her youth. Strange angles and shadows grew in unnatural shapes. Was her dad's math sound?
Or were those Eastern Europeans just being all up themselves and Expressionist again. She dipped her kolbasa on a stick into some mustard and chewed reflectively. Her dad's calcula
ted plans had definitely gone awry. She stared at the glob of mustard that hung tenaciously to the enlarged tip of the kielbasa. She tried to tell Dad that she wasn't interested in
using condiments. "But the best part is when it dribbles down my chin," he said and took a big bite of the mustardy kielbasa. She rolled her eyes and went in search of napkins.
"Get me my napkin, woman"! He demanded, his chin running in mustardy dribbles. She rolled her eyes some more until one of them spied the napkins. "Ah
ah, it was me spied it as he worked at his mustardy dribbles with his fingers," woman said, taking the napkins, igniting a match along her zipper in one fluid move. "Here's your
proof. One day it's open the next....well you get the gist. Zippers like yours are rare indeed." She smiled at that remark knowing full well he hadn't completely grasped
the metaphor. It's a side effect of being innocent, tired, or even stupid; one day your mind is open to metaphors, the next... well you get the gist.

Started: 2015-03-07 23:43:16
Finished: 2015-03-16 23:20:42

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