Gassers shot the grocery stores. Each one in town at the same time in a dime view exhaulted only by the colors. Saturated patronage, delving, robbing a cloth over patterns too complicated. Enuendos of misfortune turned their backs beautifully. A paradox hated and commanding the centers to be off their heavy guarding strengths, primes faces never showing an emotion for hell. A gaper centered forward to be among those who waited and wanted the small traditional course as their own. A waiter in time. Stand still traditions, not cursed by those wanted. Dally. Cubby holes to wait. The orange pumpkin light barely lit the room enough to see. Complete grasp was impossible to achieve. Useless eye dilation left on the socket was a blinking factor for the waiters. Lassitudes by dictate.
Cheaters gave a salute to one who passed by. They had some secret. It fazed everyone. The cheaters shit logo was read out loud against unspectacled darkness. Translucent vision down to a center in the room. Saxony bells played their silence louder than before. Moving silhouttes could be seen and reported by the cheaters as funny dancers, mime acts against the wall, funny shapes to be seen. Squinters look hard, but nothing was to be seen.
Dependability was lost. Trust was lost. The squinters future could not be relied upon the words of the cheaters. Statutory blankness equaled apathy. I was apathetic too. Like a dilettante who denounces his face as being real.
Peruvian masks imported were of special use. I tried one on. It fit. It did not glow in the dark, but just as I could not see myself, the others also could not.
The mask got breathless, so I was forced to remove it. I sat there, frozen, as always. Out of breath; shamed. One of the squinters masks looked awfully tight across his face. I hoped the blood flow could go through. He refused to take it off.
Saffron bellies need a cup of water to cleanse the blood out, pouring in, through a hole, it did hurt, at least they said so. Some also wore masks. Painted brilliant colors, to stand out, to be sure. The elay parriages scrape off to reveal a shiny gloss, pure and untouched for painting.
RIVER BED 105
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