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My, the apples on the ground are much more

  • My, the apples on the ground are much more soft than the apples on the trees. Look at the size

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  • of these fallen apples, so bloated with gas and worms, and compare them to the tiny globes high in the boughs, just

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  • out of reach of the little people. For some reason, they didn't like Leprechauns around here. I lifted a bottle of swig to my lips, and asked the guy to my left to point out the

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  • nearest spittoon so my little friends would have a place to take a bath. I never even saw the left hook that hit my zipper and exploded my brain. I think I passed out. I know I

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  • was wearing glasses, but I'm still not sure how it's possible that I ended up on the front page of the Daily News covered in

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  • tattoos. The last thing I can clearly recall is talking to a tall, dark and handsome man at the bar. He was a pilot, I think. He told me that most airline pilots never

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  • never really fly, they just soar through their minds eye and hope

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  • that something will come to mind. After all, they play this game every single day and try to hope for the best. I know that I

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  • do. Hope is, sometime, all humanity has that proves self-awareness. Other than that, we might as well be mindless amoebas.

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  • Even so, the balance of our worst affronts can be weighed against the first breath, and echoes of new hope that ring in the first cries of our children.

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