Yesterday I had made a deal with myself to run as fast as I could. I did, and I did not say anything to anyone here about being so exhausted that I fell flat on the sand when I reached the log-marker (the fog obscuring the path to the parking lot). As I made my way up the deep sand I paused then observed that the wind was blowing a puff ball of some sort toward me, really uncomfortably close to me. I moved away, around a fence, and noticed that the wind was still whipping it at me. I took 2 pictures, not thinking much about it, then went on--only to be pursued in the deep sand. I did not feel like running, but I had to go in circles till I finally got free of it. It was not a puff ball. Have you ever been relentlessly chased by a ferocious beast on the sand?
Maybe I should not have complained the other day about bureaucrats, particularly the woman at Social Security in 1998 who almost refused to let me sign up because it was her money I would be drawing. Is she dead, and is she after me in the form of a live dust ball?
Maybe I should not have complained the other day about bureaucrats, particularly the woman at Social Security in 1998 who almost refused to let me sign up because it was her money I would be drawing. Is she dead, and is she after me in the form of a live dust ball?
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