Friday, May 15, 2009

Seem To Have Degrees Of Freedom

The cook salted the water gently. He knew all and went into the nearest man with his instrument with shocking ferocity. He tried to look at least as though he had somehow happened upon his former laugh without biting it in a long-overdue, spiteful eruption, but it was difficult. He was old enough to remember when valuable golden coins were issued again by the royal treasury, but young enough to be paneled in teak and chucked in the ground. Before the "incident", his uprightness of character was never in question; it was homeomorphic to the surface of integrity.

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