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Nov. 7th, 2002 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capri0mniDRABBLE FOR THE DAY:
Harold stared down at where the morning paper should be --
but wasn't. Most mornings, he satisfied himself with silently cursing
out the paper boy for having bad aim. Today, the
aim had been perfect. But it wasn't a newspaper on
his doormat. It was a tiny, golden box with a
bright purple bow. Harold should have known better, perhaps. But
men like Harold assume the world owes them. He picked
up the box and opened it. There was a flash.
"Where am I?" Harold asked. There was no answer. Atoms
in a basketball aren't used to questions, and can't answer.
---
Note: in my head, Harold ends up in the dimensional space between the atoms in a pinball machine ball... but that would've taken too many words, so a basketball will have to do...
Harold stared down at where the morning paper should be --
but wasn't. Most mornings, he satisfied himself with silently cursing
out the paper boy for having bad aim. Today, the
aim had been perfect. But it wasn't a newspaper on
his doormat. It was a tiny, golden box with a
bright purple bow. Harold should have known better, perhaps. But
men like Harold assume the world owes them. He picked
up the box and opened it. There was a flash.
"Where am I?" Harold asked. There was no answer. Atoms
in a basketball aren't used to questions, and can't answer.
---
Note: in my head, Harold ends up in the dimensional space between the atoms in a pinball machine ball... but that would've taken too many words, so a basketball will have to do...
