http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMknrmuDD0o
The sun shines abundantly, scattering cheer in the wake of the gray gloom that was yesterday. The iridescence brings out the tiny flaws that the drabness hid, each now a pockmark on the landscape. Minute particles float blithely, gliding in a new dance when the air stirs.
A glow fills the room. The blinds filter the light making a dingy room seem only mellow. Thomas Kincaid in a bedroom in Texas.
Pogo's feed me meow loops constantly until it numbs the senses. Tyranny in fur. Once sated, like an old man, he totters to his spot to soak up the warmth of Sol.
Satchmo sprints from living room to kitchen, chasing invisible mice. He prepares for the day when his skills will elevate him to hero status. Then he waddles like an ancient possum to his hidey-hole to chase mice in his dreams.
I miss you, Dude.
Later.
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