6/5/11
Sunday was a flat day. The weather was flat. The food was bland. The wine was flavorless like grocery store strawberries. My mood was muted like a matte photograph. The book I was reading was lifeless. TV offerings were vapid much like all other days. My writing was deflated and pointless like a collapsed arch. Sapless. A horizontal watery kind of day. A ho hum pancake day. And that's all I have to say about that.
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