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New York had ritz and grit. That's why he'd

  • New York had ritz and grit. That's why he'd stayed, even living on the streets. But Jim had all but given up when the Limo stopped on his corner. He raised his sign "Will act for

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  • a job where I can work from home, make five thousand a month and only put in about 10 hours." The Limo window lowered. Jim held up his sign, hoping that whomever was in the

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  • vehicle would see his cry for help. "Feed me!" His eyes pleaded. The person in the limo, unfortunately, was the Real Slim Shady. And he was not happy that this pathetic loser

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  • was just imitating. Shady, Fatboy, and Jim sped away from the hobo, leaving him to his own devices. "I wish my own devices could feed me," said the hobo. His transmogrifier device

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  • began wailing, sending out a siren to anyone nearby. The hobo was petrified. Literally. As if Medusa had shared a loving glance with him, he was frozen dead in his tracks.

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  • Over the years, moss & lichen covered the stone hobo. Birds nested in his broken hobo hat and poppies and alpine flowers nestled in his crevices. No-one looking at him would believ

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  • e that he had written "Stone Temple Highway" or "Krakens Love Marigolds", or that he had been to Mars and back. The stone hobo weathered the time and the changes of his current lo

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  • cal clime, gathering moss and lichen that spattered his weatherbeaten face with the gravity given only to those well acquainted with Father Time. His sighs were decades long.

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  • His tears formed rushing rivers when they fell. Humans were seen as smears on his canvas of space and time. As he raced across the barren land like a brush in an invisible hand,

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  • a most beautiful landscape emerged. Minimalist. Powerful. He ran until he was a mere dot on the horizon...and it was there he found his peace.

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2 Comments

  1. PurpleProf Jan 11 2015 @ 20:32

    This is the story of life.

  2. BlastedHeath Jan 13 2015 @ 20:55

    If only New York had grits.

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