The Bees In My Stomach Are Dead

The Heart Is Something Else. Nobody Knows What's Going To Happen,' I Said

I Have Always Wanted To Write A Book That Ended With The Word 'mayonnaise.

I Like To Think (it Has To Be!) Of A Cybernetic Ecology Where We Are Free Of Our Labors And Joined Back To Nature, Returned To Our Mammal Brothers And Sisters, And All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace.

A Sombrero Fell Out Of The Sky And Landed On The Main Street Of Town In Front Of The Mayor, His Cousin, And A Person Out Of Work. The Day Was Scrubbed Clean By The Desert Air. The Sky Was Blue. It Was The Blue Of Human Eyes, Waiting For Something To Happen. There Was No Reason For A Sombrero To Fall Out Of The Sky. No Airplane Or Helicopter Was Passing Overhead And It Was Not A Religious Holiday.

We Could See The Children's Toys Here And There, And We Saw A Game That The Children Had Made Themselves Out Of Dirt, Deer Antlers And Abalone Shells, But The Game Was So Strange That Only Children Could Tell What It Was. Perhaps It Wasn't A Game At All, Only The Grave Of A Game.